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Artichoke Me Daddy

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Calasmos is gone.  The world is saved.  Eleven has found his home in a newly rebuilt Dundrasil.  And me? I found my home in Eleven. 

Shit, that sounds cheesy. 

We haven’t stopped training this past year.  Hell, we’ve only gotten stronger. El’s been kicking our asses into gear and taking us out into the woods to beat up monsters practically every time we all meet up. 

Not that I can blame him.  

Apparently that baby-faced star asshole followed him through time.  TIME. I still can’t believe it. Not that he’d have any reason to lie about it.  The second we were free from the blast zone El was breaking down and telling us everything. 

Yggdrasil fell.   I feel like I’m going to get smote just for writing that.  She fell, and we all apparently saved that doomed world. And just when El finally had a happy ending at his fingertips, the chance to save all of the people who died took that away. 

Because of course he wouldn’t rest, knowing there was still a chance.  

When Calasmos followed him, El thought he doomed our world.  And thank the goddess Calasmos is a lazy fuck, because that asshole had enough firepower to put our world through the same shit he told us about. 

He still worries that the next apocalypse is right around the corner.  He tried to hide it at first, but it’s kinda hard to hide the screams that wake us both up.  And I thought I had nasty nightmares. 

So really, I don’t mind the working out.  It’s always been relaxing to me, ever since I had fuckall else to do in that jail cell during the day.  And if it eases his mind even a little, it’s fine by me. 

When we were training up to beat Calasmos’s dramatic ass, we took a breather after a real nasty fight.  I still remember it like it was yesterday.  

Jade was hitting on Serena like her life depended on it, Serena was thinking about how Jade was such a good friend.  Rab was sneaking his dirty mag, and I’m pretty sure he and Hendrik were talking about getting their hands on the “original” or some shit.  I think Veronica was trying to figure out how the braziers were working? Sylv was helping her with that. At least as much help as chucking old juggling balls into it would be. 

Anyway, El grabs my hand, giving me a fucking heart attack, mind, and pulls me to the side. 

He told me he never wanted to be apart. 

And since then, we weren’t - never again.  I don’t know if it was Drustan’s magic - I like to think it’s because of our unbreakable bond.  But we’ve hardly gone a week before falling all over each other like it’s been a lifetime. 

Not that I’d ever complain.  I’ve been an absolute mess for the guy since he got it through my thick head he’d never leave me.  That was in Gondolia. Feels like a lifetime ago. 

Mia if you’re reading this I’m going to cut your braid off in your sleep. 

Erik jumped at the sound of the door opening.  He shoved the journal, ink still wet, into the first drawer he got his hands on.  

Eleven walked in, dressed to the nines.  Erik bit his lip to stop the idiotic smitten grin.  Judging by Eleven’s reaction, he failed completely. 

‘What’s that face for?’  he signed. He appeared to be fighting his own smile. 

“Nothing,” Erik said.  He gave Eleven an exaggerated up and down look.  “You look good.” 

Eleven rolled his eyes.  ‘Says you,’ he fired back as he crossed the room.  He kept walking, and didn’t stop until Erik’s thigh met the desk. 

“Hey there,” Erik murmured, their lips nearly brushing as he spoke.  A sly grin was the last thing he saw before his eyes closed. 

There was a gentle press of lips to his cheek, and he opened his eyes, pouting.  Eleven grinned again, and started to step back. 

“You little jerk,” Erik said, catching him by the collar and reeling him back in.  “Finish what you started!” 

Eleven didn’t stop snickering until their mouths crashed together.  Erik prided himself in his ability to wipe Eleven’s smirk right off his face. 

Eleven exhaled hard.  He was into it. Erik was going to make him more into it. 

Erik flipped them around, and Eleven thudded against the desk.  His hands flew up to tangle in the back of Erik’s shirt. Erik tugged Eleven’s lower lip between his teeth, pulling out a whine. 

Erik ran his hand down Eleven’s chest, slowing, not stopping, at the belt.  Eleven gasped and twisted toward his hand. 

“Oh hello,” Erik mumbled against his lips.  He pulled back far enough to look him in the eye.  “What’s this, hm?” 

Eleven was panting, a wild desperation in his gaze.  ‘We-’ Erik moved back enough to let him speak. ‘We have to go or we’re going to be late.’ 

Erik raised a brow, and rocked his palm once.  With a moan, Eleven arched his back. He grabbed Erik’s wrist.  

He didn’t push it away.  He pretty clearly didn’t want to. 

Deciding to be responsible for once, Erik pulled his hand off him.  He got a wince, and then a face of gratitude. 

‘Goddess, sweetheart.  I want you.  But we have to go.’  

“I know,” Erik sighed.  He gave him a quick peck on the lips.  “I know. C’mon, let’s get your clothes fixed.” 



Erik turned away from the pot he’d just lost an argument with.  His eyes stung. He’d made some excellent points, but it had been the victor in the end.  

Maybe he could ask Eleven to chuck it against the ground later.  His sweet boyfriend was always willing to fight for his honor. And always willing to destroy easily smashable decorations, for some reason. 

His foul mood fled him when he turned back to find Eleven sprawled across Serena’s lap.  He moved his hands clumsily, a huge change from the usual way he painted his words across the sky, and it was endlessly endearing.  Serena nodded sagely, and said something Erik couldn’t quite catch. Eleven turned bright red. 

Serena threw back her head and laughed.  Burying his face in his hands, Eleven rolled off her lap onto the floor. 

Erik hadn’t noticed the floor passing under his feet.  All he knew was that one moment he was watching from across the room, sad about seeing someone in such a nice getup on the dirty floor, and the next Eleven was groaning into his chest.  He was warm. Warm, snuggly Eleven. 

“So Erik,” Serena started.  Her voice was even, unusually so for how drunk she was, which told Erik she was scheming. 

Erik hummed, prompting her to continue.  He couldn’t be bothered to look up. Eleven was pretty.  He was still flushed, though from the alcohol or what Serena had said, Erik wasn’t sure.  His hair was so perfect, even though he’d been rolling around on the ground. How.  

“Eleven cannot stress enough how quite hairy- no,” she mumbled the last part, looking confused.  “Quite… very, strong you are!” 

Eleven huffed, clinging even closer.  The tips of his ears were red, as they only ever were when they talked about- ah.   

It was kind of hilarious, given how risky Eleven liked to play it, that he was always so embarrassed talking about sex with anyone else.  Even when it was just the two of them, he got all flustered. 

Of course, that got flung to the wayside when the touching started.  He’d never known that those innocent doe eyes masked one of the nastiest minds he’d ever meet.  Not that he’d ever complain - he was more than happy to sate his angel’s ravenous hunger.  

It was nice to feel wanted, and so desperately like Eleven wanted him.  It wasn’t like he had any trouble keeping up - or keeping it up, hah.  

Or keeping Eleven up, against a wall, whining and panting even though he was doing jack shit but looking sexy.  Erik should have been the one panting, but Eleven was lighter than he looked, and Erik stronger than he realized.  And it wasn’t as though Eleven didn’t return the favor the very next time. 

Erik blinked down at Eleven, realizing he’d been rolling his brain around the gutter for several seconds now.  Serena flopped over, giggling at what must have been a completely ridiculous expression. Eleven just looked worried. 

“Wuh,” he slurred.  Eleven leaned into his hand, Erik mindlessly scratching his hair.  Kitty cat.  Mewminary. Oh man I think I’ve had enough booze. 

Serena flat-out cackled into the dirty floor.  “I don’t suppose you’ll be using those muscles of yours to spank him with much force, will you?” 

Erik’s hand froze in Eleven’s hair.  He had… never thought of that.  He opened his mouth to tell her it was none of her business.  What came out was, “We were going to try that next.” 

Serena sat up with a gasp, hand flying to her mouth.  “Oh my!” she said, mock scandalized. 

“Yeah,” his face continued with absolutely no permission, “and then maybe we can get the ropes out.” 

Eleven shifted on Erik’s lap, drawing his attention.  His eyes were wide as saucers, but they morphed half-lidded, paired with a smirk, right before his eyes. 

“How wonderful!” Serena cooed.  “Just be sure it’s not too terribly tight!  If you feel tingling at any time at all, that’s really quite serious.”  She appeared to space out for a full thirty seconds before starting back up.  “Oh, do tell me if you need any ideas! Jade and I have been quite very,” she interrupted herself with a delicate giggle, “adventurous.”

Erik internally groaned, face burning.  He could go his whole fuckin’ life without hearing about his friend getting it on with his boyfriend’s sister.  Eleven appeared just as mortified, turning to bury his face back into Erik’s chest. 

He apparently wasn’t as embarrassed as he appeared on the outside. 

Between their bodies, hidden from view, a hand snuck up Erik’s leg.  It took every last scrap of Erik’s remaining composure to not yelp. Eleven’s hand stopped on Erik’s hip, fingertips just shy of a suddenly very interested Little Erik, and gazed up with his most innocent look.  A look Erik still couldn’t believe he used to actually take for face value. 

Heart pounding, he mumbled excuses to Serena she wouldn’t believe for a second and swept his horny kitty cat off the floor.  And kitty cat he sure was, practically purring for getting his way, like the spoiled thing he was. 

He didn’t even bother to try standing on his own, instead letting Erik carry him bridal style all the way back to their room.  Spoiled.  

And Erik loved spoiling him. 



Their clothes fell to the ground as soon as the lock clicked shut.  It so often did when the two of them were this drunk. Maybe they’d even get the chance to touch each other’s dicks before passing out this time. 

Before Erik had fully gotten out of his pants, Eleven took his turn scooping him up.  Erik mumbled halfhearted protests, struggling to unhook the pant leg from his ankle while Eleven carried him to the wash room. 

They were sober enough to realize they were gross with sweat, and Eleven, covered in dirt from sitting on the floor so long.  But really, Erik would take any excuse to bathe together. It was nice to have someone to wash his back, and to have someone with as nice a back as Eleven had when returning the favor. 

Being alone together and naked was one hell of a bonus. 

Eleven scrubbed Erik’s back clean, the slow, soothing motions making him just as sleepy as it made him desperate to be rubbed in other places.   The second his hands fell away, Erik whirled around and brought their chests flush.  They kissed sloppily. 

Erik loved his mouth.  And lucky for him, Eleven loved Erik’s right back.  He was so responsive, turning into a whining mess with just a swirl of the tongue. 

Eleven roughly slid his hands down Erik’s back, dipping below the warm water to grab onto his ass with both hands.  He used it as leverage to tug him further between his legs, pulling Erik right against Eleven’s very hard dick. 

Goddess almighty, he feels bigger when we’ve been drinking.  

Eleven laid back in the water, Erik not hesitating to follow with a bite to the lip.  Eleven put himself at a good angle for Erik to reach down and tease his rim as they lazily rocked together.  Eleven shivered, a moan muffled against Erik’s lips. He knew what they would be doing, should they manage to stay awake long enough to make it back to the jar of lube sitting innocently on the nightstand.  It was unfortunate that it probably wouldn’t work out that way. 

But Erik wasn’t one to dwell on misfortune.  He could work with what he had. And what he had was a warm, wet, attractive man who wanted him just as badly. 

Erik wrapped a hand around both of them, his right hand on the edge of the tub to hold himself steady.  Eleven broke the kiss, his head falling back with a breathy whine. 

“So desperate,” Erik murmured in his ear.  Eleven gave a short nod, not trying to deny it.  He’d finally learned that he’d get touched sooner if he behaved.  

Eleven looked up through his lashes, eyes pleading.  His gaze was glossed over, but it said all Erik needed to know.  That Eleven would do anything for him, anything to get touched, that he was his.  


The sudden possessive streak didn’t surprise him; he’d felt that way a lot of the times he’d taken the lead.  What did surprise him was that, this time, it didn’t go away in a flash when Eleven leaned in and gave him a hard nip to the neck. 

In fact, it made it worse. 

Erik growled and sunk his teeth into Eleven’s shoulder, pumping them together with a frenzy.  Eleven writhed under him, hands falling on the edge of the tub with a thunk.  

Erik grinned, his teeth digging into Eleven’s skin.  He wanted him to just lie back and take it, to let himself get spoiled rotten.  To be taken care of, for once in his life. 

Eleven recovered from the shock, and lifted back up.  His wet hair met Erik’s neck, then his mouth did. He grazed his teeth from Erik’s jaw to his shoulder, feather light.  The way back up was painted with his tongue. 

“Hah,” Erik breathed, “didya jus’ lick me?” 

Eleven grinned and slobbered up Erik’s forehead.  Erik slowed down, not quite able to stop in spite of himself, and Eleven pouted.  Eleven’s face suddenly twisted, and he spit to the side. 

“Hair?” Erik asked, taking his hand fully off them to wipe the spit off his forehead.  Eleven looked indignant, but nodded. “Serves you right, gross ass.” 

The face Eleven made in response was vaguely threatening, and not-so-vaguely exciting as fuck.  If Erik didn’t get back to touching him soon, he was going to have to face the consequences, and that was a promise. 

As much as he loved it when Eleven took over and absolutely ruined him, he wasn’t going to let that happen right now.  He had a burning desire to make Eleven remember that he was his.   

Fortunately, Eleven’s submissive side was a damn easy match to light, once Erik learned what made him tick. 

Hiding his grin in Eleven’s shoulder, Erik threaded his fingers through his wet hair.  He meant to make the movements soothing and take him by surprise, but his intent must have shown through.  Eleven’s breath hitched, and his hands curled around Erik’s hips. 

With only the slightest tug, Eleven was baring his neck and arching his back.  He gave the sweetest, softest little whine. 

“Here, hold this,” Erik mumbled, tugging Eleven’s hand down to their dicks.  Eleven’s shoulders shook in silent laughter, but he did as he was asked. So obedient.  

Erik could have his hands free with no guilt now, and he used it to his full advantage.  Eleven’s hand stuttered as Erik twirled his hair around his fingers contemplatively. He pumped them a little faster, giving Erik his sweetest puppy dog eyes. 

Erik grinned and dropped both hands to Eleven’s chest, running his fingertips up and down his muscular frame.  He paused a second, the pad of his thumb tracing the edge of the scar on his sternum - the one that felt both too familiar and too unfamiliar, no matter how many times he saw him naked.  Eleven squirmed, the puppy eyes getting exponentially more pathetic, successfully distracting him from whatever downward spiral his brain was trying to take. 

It was more fun to think about making Eleven earn it.  

Eleven’s free hand tugged Erik forward.  He made for Erik’s mouth, and Erik ducked the kiss with a smirk.  Before Eleven could process what was happening, Erik leaned back in, fought the temptation of Eleven’s heavenly kisses, and snapped his teeth.  Eleven’s eyes popped open. He whined. 

Genuinely whined, loud and mournful. 

“Aw,” Erik purred.  He twirled his hands in Eleven’s hair. 

Eleven’s breathing sped to a rate that would have had Erik concerned, had he been any less drunk, and his hand on their pressed dicks matched the speed.  Erik briefly considered teasing him even more, but there was a limit to how much he could torture someone with that sweet a face. 

Eleven let out a strangled moan as Erik just lightly tugged on his hair.  Erik bit his lip. He knew that sound.  Eleven was close.  

Arousal burned Erik from the inside out, increasing tenfold with every helpless little noise that spilled from Eleven’s lips. 

He interrupted Eleven’s hand, and replaced it with his own.  He needed this, needed to be the one to bring Eleven to finish.  He curled his fingers in Eleven’s hair, twisting the strands for a better grip, and finally pulled harder. 

That was apparently all it took.  Eleven thrust up, feet scrambling on the slick bottom of the tub behind Erik.  He leaned into the tug, tilting his head back, and yelled like he was in pain.  

He let out a few more shouts, each decreasing in volume, fading into a soft whimper. 

Erik stared down.  “You juiced the bath water.” 

Eleven laughed breathlessly.  ‘Sorry.’ 

Erik couldn’t be mad at him.  Not with that fucked-out expression, still working Erik’s needy dick through the haze. 

Eleven’s tongue poked out to wet his lips, then he swallowed, thickly enough that Erik could see the dramatic bob of his throat.  Oh, Erik realized, someone’s hungry.  

“You wanna-” Erik didn’t get to finish his sentence.  Eleven scooped him out of the water like he weighed nothing, landing him hard on his ass on the edge of the tub. 

“Ow,” he mumbled.  Eleven blinked sweetly at him.  He didn’t look all that sorry. 

And Erik didn’t fault him.  He super didn’t fault him, because then Eleven’s mouth was swallowing him whole. 

Erik tilted his head back, letting out a soft cry.  He’d been so focused on making Eleven feel good, he hadn’t noticed how desperate he was himself.  Eleven hummed happily around him. Fuck, fuuuck.   Eleven loved doing this, Erik knew he did, but it didn’t ever get old. 

Erik panted, running his hands through Eleven’s hair, down his shoulders, back up.  He tugged gently, not wanting to hurt him so soon after the rough treatment. Making Eleven feel good was still his first priority.  

Erik gasped, legs locking around Eleven’s head, when he hummed again.  Apparently he was even more into having his hair tugged around than Erik had realized.  The vibrations tore him apart. 

Fuck his control, fuck ruining Eleven, fuck everything that wasn’t the beautiful face between his legs. 

Actually, fuck that too.  If Eleven wants him to. 

And speaking of- 

Eleven reached his arms around Erik’s backside and patted it, tugging him further into Eleven’s mouth.  He wasn’t sure how well he could balance, but he’d be damned if he gave up the opportunity. 

He rocked his hips forward experimentally, and Eleven hummed again, rolling his eyes back, shooting shivers up Erik’s spine.  Fuck, he really likes this.   The heat of Eleven’s mouth was overwhelming, and how he managed to be so much hotter than the bath water was- 

Well.  It wasn’t all that surprising, actually.  Erik knew his boyfriend was hotter than molten steel. 

There was a crazed desperation in Eleven’s eyes.  Almost like he was going to get off, again, just from Erik’s pleasure, and a full mouth. 

The heat was building, building, building, it was so much, almost too much.  Erik curled his hands in Eleven’s hair with each new spike of heat.  

He burned.  

“El,” he whispered. 

Then he went over the edge. 

He came with a cry, the soft lights of the wash room brightening to a point it was almost blinding.  Eleven continued to suck around him, sucked him dry, kept going until Erik was shivering, overstimulated.  He had to shove his apparently still horny boyfriend off him or his dick would shrivel up like a prune. 

“Fuck, El.   You’re too much, angel.” 

Eleven grinned up at him.  Holy fuck, did he swallow?   Unlike Erik, Eleven hated the taste.  It may have something to do with his diet - but that was a thought for another time. 

Eleven offered his hands up, and Erik took them.  He let himself be guided back into the water. They curled together, Eleven rocking Erik ever so slightly as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. 

“Let me wash your hair,” Erik said, breaking the silence. 

Eleven turned and sunk up to his chin in the water, leaning his back against Erik’s chest.  It would be impossible to wash his hair properly like this. Erik didn’t care. 

Eleven melted at the touch, the scoops of water running through his hair, scratches on the scalp, fingers running through the wet strands.  He leaned on Erik more and more heavily as the minutes passed. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, now,” Erik murmured against the side of his head, knowing full well he’d carry him, sopping wet, back to bed if he did. 

And he knew, waking up the next morning with only the memory of Eleven starting to wash his hair in return, that Eleven would do the same. 

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since the party, and Eleven and Erik’s drunken night of potential bedroom confessions with Serena. El hadn’t been able to get those ideas out of his mind, along with a few others he decided he wanted to bring up. But that was the problem, bringing it up. Did he just ask out of the blue? Wait until they were in the heat of it? Blurt it out right after he finished?

He had a moment of bravery that evening. They’d just returned from dinner, and maybe it was the extra glass of wine giving Eleven the confidence to speak up, but it was time. He wanted this, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to get it.

‘So…’ Eleven sat at the edge of the bed, letting his hands fall into his lap. He let them rest there for a moment before raising them again to continue his thought. A faint blush began to spread across his face at what he was about to say. Even though they’d been living together in the castle for a year, Erik still gave him butterflies in his chest.

Erik leaned in comically close, awaiting him to continue. Eleven shoved at his shoulder playfully.

‘You,’ he said, poking Erik in the chest with his finger, ‘are not helping!’

Erik laughed and sat back, giving him space to speak. “I’m sorry. I’ll behave. For now.”

Eleven pretended to be annoyed, but Erik’s wolfish grin had him smiling again in seconds. Damn him.

‘Anyway...were you serious when we were goofing around with Serena? About trying some new things?’ He reached back and patted the mattress to help get his point across. He didn't want to have to spell it out.
It took Erik a moment, but a look of realization crossed his features quickly.

“Oh! Uh, well... What were you thinking?”

A playful smile formed on El’s lips. If Erik could read his mind, he'd be in a lot of trouble. Hopefully the kind that involved undressing...

‘Would you dress up for me?’

Erik’s eyes narrowed, he was interested. He tilted his chin up, waiting for El to continue. “Like a bunny girl?”

El stifled a giggle. As cute as Erik could be as a bunny girl, he had other ideas. ‘Leather pants. And nothing else. Maybe a whip?’

Erik’s eyebrows tried to jump off his face. He looked surprised, but not disinterested. “Alright, I’m game. I think I like where this is going. Any other requests?”

There he was leaning in close again, teasing El with those kissable lips-

Before he could raise his hands up to continue the thought they were wrapping around Erik’s neck and tangling in his hair, pulling him in for a messy kiss. El untangled one hand and firmly pressed it against Erik’s chest, pushing him back enough to flop backwards onto the bed, legs still dangling off the edge. El quickly situated himself overtop of him so there was no chance of escape.

He leaned down with the intention of a soft kiss, but Erik had other plans. Erik grabbed a fistful of El’s hair and pulled just like he knew El liked. He dragged him the last few inches down and bit El’s bottom lip.

El relished in the pain-pleasure feeling that traveled from his head down to his toes. He responded by taking one of Erik’s hands and pinning it above his head before ducking his head down and beginning to nip at Erik’s neck.

“Ah, fuck. Was there...uh...more to your idea?” Erik gasped between breaths.

El released his pinned hand and sat up, arms crossed. In that moment they both realized how pressured their situation had become.

‘Do you really want to continue this conversation now?’ he signed pointedly, grinding his hips forward a bit for emphasis.

Erik lay there, helpless. “Fine, you win. Lose the shirt.”

Eleven didn’t need much more direction than that. He tore his shirt off in one swift motion, not wasting anymore time. In a blink El was on him, trailing kisses from his jaw down to his collarbone. He let up for a moment, to really appreciate the flustered state he'd so quickly put Erik in before leaning back down to give his lips some much needed attention.

El's head swam, kissing Erik was always like getting lost at sea. He welcomed the feeling of being pulled under, the waves overtaking him as Erik's tongue brushed his own.

The sudden knock at the door took them both by surprise, snapping them out of their heated daze. El grunted in disapproval as he begrudgingly untangled himself to let Erik sit up.

"You've got to be kidding me. Every time…" Erik trailed off, scooping El's shirt off the floor. El waved his hand in dismissal, shrugging his jacket on without the undershirt.

'No time.'

El smoothed his hands through his hair a few times and looked to Erik, who tugged at the edges of El's jacket to smooth it out before giving him a thumbs up. Erik ducked into the bathroom to hide his compromised state. Hopefully whoever it was didn't need to come in and stay a while.

El opened the door with a smile and a warm greeting. Before him stood one of the palace knights.

"Excuse the interruption your highness, but Lord Robert requests your audience in the throne room."

El nodded gratefully, thanking the knight as he saluted and matched back from whence he came. He shut the door, resting his back against it for a moment. The knight hadn't realized Eleven wasn't wearing a shirt under his unusually buttoned up jacket, and if he did, he was too polite to mention it. Eleven assumed they were all privy to the prince and his partner's nonsense by now anyway. They'd gotten caught enough times he was sure they had a reputation.

El threw himself back down onto the bed, face first. Erik joined him on the bed, flopping down beside him with his arms folded behind his head.

“Gotta go?” he asked, reaching over to rub a soothing hand over El’s back.

He nodded into the mattress.

“Well…” Erik began, the most mischievous grin forming. “How quickly do you think we could-”

El was up and back on him in an instant, leaving rushed kisses along his neck.

‘We have ten minutes.’ he said rushed, pushing up and off the bed for a moment to fling his belt across the room. When he turned back to look at Erik, the rest of his clothes had magically vanished, tossed onto the floor on the other side of the bed.

In their time living in the castle they’d gotten really good at fast love - Eleven was needed for a multitude of stupid and pointless things that had a tendency to interrupt them at the most inoppertune moments. At least, they seemed stupid and pointless when he’d much rather be ravishing his boyfriend’s-

El’s head snapped up to attention. Rab was speaking to him, and he’d completely missed the question he was asked.

‘I’m sorry, could you repeat that?’ He felt his face getting warm.

Rab chuckled, he was his grandson, alright. “Daydreamin', laddie? I dinnae blame ye. I was young once too, ye know.”

El tried to hide his smile, he was lucky Rab was so patient with him.


Eleven pushed the door open and let it slam shut with a thud. He scanned the room, surprised when he saw Erik wasn’t there. Not that he expected Erik to wait around for him, but considering how they'd left things… He mentally ran through a list of the places he could have gone in the hour he was away, and decided to go on a bit of a manhunt.

His mind was quickly filled with images of what he wanted to do as soon as he found Erik, and it made his footsteps land just a bit more quickly. He spotted a flutter of black and purple fabric rounding a corner. Perfect. El ducked back into the shadows and waited for Erik to walk by, grabbing his stole and yanking him into the dark corridor.

“Agh, what the-?”

El put a finger to his lips before roughly pushing Erik up against the wall, hands on warm skin. El mentally high fived himself for forging this outfit for him, it was a personal favorite for several reasons. Mostly because it didn’t cover much. That might have been intentional. He slipped a hand under the breastplate and teased a finger over Erik’s nipple, earning a stifled gasp. His mouth immediately went to Erik’s neck, shoving fabric out of the way.

Erik was quickly reduced to a squirming mess in his arms. By this point in their relationship he knew exactly what buttons to push to make him fall apart.

“Hoo...ah...we should...head back to the...the room, yeah?” he breathed out between gasps.

With a smirk El hoisted Erik over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, noting the faint press on his chest from the state he'd very quickly put Erik in. He made a mental note to ambush him in public more often. It seemed rather...effective.

Erik’s giggles echoed down the hall, catching the attention of a guard on the late shift. Eleven hurried past him with a nod, hoping he didn’t think anything of it past the usual shenanigans.

Once they arrived back at their door, Eleven flung it open with one hand while playfully pinching Erik’s bottom with the other. He tossed Erik onto the bed and turned to shut the door and lock it. He refused to think about the time he forgot to lock the door. He was still doing favors for Jade because of that incident.

Eleven turned back around to find that Erik’s cape and breastplate had disappeared. Convenient. He struggled with the buttons on his dress coat, eventually tossing it to the floor along with his undershirt. Hands quickly found warm skin, Erik’s nails dragging trails down El’s back as he dipped down to nip at his neck. The urgency from before came rushing back in an instant, along with things rushing elsewhere. El failed miserably at resisting the urge to grind into him, making his situation very apparent.

“Heh, already? Damn, I’m good.”

There were several ways Eleven could shut his smug boyfriend up, and the one he had in mind required a change in position. El sat up long enough to distinctly sign his next words matched with a stern gaze.

‘On your knees. Now.’

Erik looked up wide eyed, but got up off of the bed and sank to the floor with nothing but a smug smile.

The look on Erik's face made the fact that El's pants were still on very unfortunate. With a quick jerk of his arm, El held his belt in his hands, snapping it playfully. He held it between his teeth, eyebrow raised.

‘Behave, or I might have to use this.’

Erik’s smile only grew at the threat. He held his wrists out as an offering.

Eleven shook his head, the belt wouldn’t work for that. He glanced down at what Erik was still wearing - the purple scarf tied around his hips. He reached down to untie it, but not before Erik took the opportunity to tickle him under the arms as he reached.

El squeaked, quickly grabbed the scarf and retreated. He held a single finger out in front of him- a warning. Erik wasn’t getting the upper hand here, not this time. He wrapped the scarf around the back of Erik’s neck, enough to tug him up a little so he could lean down and kiss him. He let go of the scarf and leaned back far enough to move his hands.


“Are you?”

El gave him a look before reaching down to tie his hands with the scarf. For a moment Erik almost looked innocent, until that wicked grin was back with a vengeance. He licked his lips slowly, purposefully. Looks like that were what haunted El’s every naughty dream, and he cursed Erik for giving his brain even more ammunition to work with. El couldn’t get his pants to the floor fast enough, tossing them over his shoulder with a flick of his wrist. He stood in front of his slightly restrained and kneeling boyfriend, admiring the sweet look on his face. He couldn't wait to ruin it.

Erik leaned in to lick at him, until El decided to speed up the process. He impatiently grabbed a fistful of blue hair, pulling him forward enough that Erik's mouth was full.

El looked down and made eye contact long enough to taunt him, releasing his grip on Erik’s hair for only a moment.

'You're always such a damn tease.'

The best part was that for once, Erik couldn't reply with a quick-witted jab. Well, maybe that wasn't the best part as El shuddered at the sensation of a tongue slowly running down his length. He released his grip on Erik’s hair and let him continue as he wished.

El bit back a groan and would have begged, but he knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Erik was going to take his time until El was totally undone, a panting and whining mess totally at his mercy.

Erik flicked his tongue just under the tip one more time before looking up with a hungry gaze. El’s breath hitched in his chest, just waiting for him to finally-

A satisfied sigh left him as Erik slowly slid his mouth down El's dick. Every inch he moved down brought another hitch in El's breath, another shiver down his spine. He braced his hands on Erik’s shoulders as not to accidentally push too far and choke least until he wanted to be. No matter how many times they did this, it would never cease to feel this good.

El’s hands moved from resting on Erik's shoulders to tangle in his hair, pulling tight every time Erik moved his tongue. He made a sound in the back of his throat as he took more and more in, sending a jolt through El like he'd touched a doorknob after walking around in stocking feet.

Erik pulled back enough so he could speak, forcing a soft whine from El at the disappearance of warmth.


El nodded feverishly, what kind of question was that? If Erik didn't put his mouth back where it currently belonged he felt like he was going to pass out or die. Or both.
Erik held his hands up, still tied with his hip scarf.

“Untie me for the rest? I’ll make it worth your while.”

He was bargaining. El knew exactly what those hands were capable of, so he had no reason to doubt Erik would absolutely make it worth his while. He undid the knot in record time, tossing the scarf across the room.
Now that he had the ability to use his hands, he wrapped one hand firmly around El’s base while the other dipped below his own waistband. With a playful squeeze Erik dipped his head back down and greedily took El’s dick back into his mouth as he began to work on himself at the same time.

El reached back to twist his hands into the bedsheets as the warmth returned. His brain tried to reach for a coherent thought. It could have been about anything, but all he could think about was good Erik was making him feel, and how he never wanted this to stop. His legs began to wobble until Erik placed his open palm on his stomach, signalling him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

He did as he was told, Erik readjusting his position to continue right where he left off. He wasted no time working back into a smooth and steady rhythm, undoing El a little more with every bob of his head.

He watched as Erik freed himself from his pants and continued to take care of his own arousal, deft hands that had left Eleven sprawled out on the tent floor gasping time and time again. The image of the blooming flush on Erik’s face along with the groans of his growing desperation was enough to put Eleven right on the edge.

Erik came messily into his own hand, his strangled cry sending delicious reverberations up El’s shaft and into his core.

Watching Erik’s undoing was the last thread to break, Eleven’s breath caught in his throat as he gave the hair he still had in threaded through his fingers one final tug. His hips bucked forward into Erik’s hand, seeking contact.

He caught Erik off guard, he must have been too lost in the sauce notice El’s usual signal. Erik had just pulled back to take a breath when El had been pushed over the edge, spilling out and hitting Erik square in the face.

When Eleven opened his eyes and looked down, he held in a giggle as Erik wiped his eyes clean enough to see what he was laughing about.

‘Oh no, I’ve made a mess of your pretty face. I’m sorry.’

He wasn’t sorry, not really. Seeing Erik like this, grinning up at him with a physical proof of their intimacy slowly dripping down his face was sort of beautiful. El reached forward to gently wipe some of it off of Erik’s cheek, the stickiness spider-webbing between his fingers. He felt a little guilty, but only a little.

Erik caught his wrist before he could move to get up, locking eyes as he slowly took one of El’s cum-covered fingers into his mouth, sucking it off with a satisfied hum.

El couldn’t look away. Even if he could, not even Yggdrasil falling all over again would have been able to make him tear his gaze away from the downright pornographic look Erik was giving him. If he wasn’t already completely spent, he’d be ready for round two just from that look alone.

“You think I’d let you get away without giving me a taste?”

He released El’s wrist with a smug grin.

Before getting up to get a washrag Eleven had to get the last word in.

‘Gods, could you stop being so hot for five minutes?’

Erik gave him a sly wink, sticking his tongue out for good measure.

As fun as making a mess of Erik was, cleaning him up was even better. They sat cross-legged on the bed facing one another, El with a wash rag in hand. He gently scrubbed at what was left of the half-dried remnants on Erik’s face. He picked something out of his hair, shoulders shaking in laughter. He dropped the damp rag in his lap.

“C’mon, in my hair?”

‘Well, that’s one way to keep it spiked’

Erik swatted his hand away and leaned forward with a kissy-face. El indulged him, even slipping him a little tongue. He pulled back, licking his lips.


“You’re gross.”

‘So are you, you’re the one who ate it.’

After getting all cleaned up and ready for bed, they curled up under the plush sheets, Erik's back pulled up against El’s chest. His arms wrapped around Erik's waist, chin on his shoulder. As fun and satisfying as sex was, the aftermath was just as good.

Erik turned to look back, a sly smile on his face.

"So, shopping tomorrow? Gotta find those leather pants…"

Chapter Text

Erik woke to light streaming in through the window.  He felt heavy. Eleven curling around him, practically on top of him, may have contributed to that.  Despite the mild claustrophobia from the weight pinning him to the bed, he felt safe. Warm. 

A little too warm. 

He shifted, trying to wiggle out from under the blankets without waking his partner.  In his struggling, he felt something poke his tailbone. Is that his knee?  

Wait, no.   Apparently he’d woken his partner.  Or… at least part of him. 

Erik rocked back against Eleven’s hips.  Eleven hummed, wrapping his arm tighter around Erik’s waist.  Not quite sure if he’d woken him, he tried again, grinding against him through their soft sleep pants. 

Eleven let out a strangled moan, and gripped Erik’s hip to still him. 

“Good morning,” Erik said cheerfully. 

Eleven’s hips pressed forward.  Erik twisted away, hiding his grin at the frustrated huff.  Eleven tapped Erik’s lips, brought his hand forward, and made a scooping motion back up. 

“Oh, I was talking to your dick.”  Erik bit back a snicker as Eleven sighed.  “Mornin’ to you too, though.” 

Eleven let out a dramatic exhale, blowing his awful morning breath across the space Erik was about to take an inhale out of. 

Erik gagged.  “Holy shit, El!  Did something crawl into your mouth and die last night?” 

Laughing silently, Eleven rolled off him.  ‘Love you.’ 

Erik fought the urge to chase him for more cuddles.  “Love you too, stinky.”  

‘Look who’s talking.’  Eleven scooped a lump of fabric off the floor and looked up with a raised brow.  

Erik’s sleep shirt, which he’d ditched at some point in the night.  As often as he struggled out of it in his sleep, he wondered why he still bothered to put it on.  Maybe it was the rush of sensation, when he woke up to snuggle into Eleven’s chest, only to fall back asleep with Eleven’s soft long sleeves against his skin. 

Eleven chucked the shirt toward the dirty clothes basket, overshooting by a few inches.  ‘You’re messy.’ 

“Hey, you’re the one who touched it last.  It’s your mess now.” 

‘You’re my mess now.’ 

“Always have been,” Erik interrupted himself with a jaw-cracking yawn, stretching his arms over his head.  “Always will be.”  

The playful frustration melted off Eleven’s face, replaced by something far sweeter.  Erik grinned. He did that.  Eleven was arguably the most important man in the world and Erik was the one making him swoon. 

‘Sap.’  Eleven crossed the room in a hurry and tackled Erik in a heap. 

He was still warm from sleep, and probably from arousal, and Erik could stay snuggled up like this forever. 

“Y’know, we’re gonna be late to breakfast with Sylv if you keep laying on me like this,” Erik said, making absolutely no move to push him off.  Hoping he’d just sit up long enough to say they should cancel and spend the morning in bed. 

Eleven buried his face in Erik’s neck with a low rumble.  His soft exhale fanned Erik’s throat, fortunately not getting up into smelling range. 

Erik kissed a crown across Eleven’s forehead, slowly untangling his hair.  Eleven’s fingers curled against Erik’s bare skin, and he pressed his lips under his jawline. 

Erik shivered, and Eleven kissed again, leaving more and more lingering kisses as the affection turned to lightning.  He’d always been a bit sensitive there. He squirmed under Eleven’s ministrations. 

“Y’know, I think he’d forgive us if we were, ah-” Eleven grazed his teeth down his neck, “a- a few minutes late.” 

Snickering, Eleven stood, leaving Erik feeling cold.  

“Damnit, you tease.” 



Breakfast didn’t do much to cool the heat under Erik’s collar.  He could have sworn Eleven was trying to break him. The second he’d get himself under control, Eleven would “innocently” trail a fingertip up his knee under the table, or wrap an arm around his waist, hand dipping just a bit too low. 

Granted, Eleven wasn’t the only one playing his little game.  Hell, if Erik wasn’t giving just as good as he got, Eleven might have gotten bored before they even made it to the first course. 

The absolutely ruined look Eleven gave him last night as Erik licked his fingers clean was burned into his mind.  Every time he closed his eyes, he could see it clear as day. Eleven had been in a daze the rest of the evening, as they got ready for bed, and had cuddled even closer than usual when they drifted off to sleep. 

Despite the activities going on under the table, they were able to swap pleasantries just fine.  It wasn’t as if visiting Sylvando was unusual, so there wasn’t much to catch up on. 

Erik almost missed the new addition entirely due to the hand sliding just under the rim of his shirt.  Hendrik joined late, training equipment tucked neatly under one arm, despite the fact that it was far more than one person should be able to carry.  He paused when Sylvando caught his eye. 

Erik glanced back at their host.  Sylvando raised his chin in greeting, not giving Hendrik much of a note beyond that.  He didn’t look that different - maybe a bit more dolled up than usual. He wondered if the two had a fight. 

Sylvando’s nose wrinkled as Hendrik walked past.  Erik couldn’t exactly blame him, with Hendrik having been out training in the Puerto Valorian heat, likely for hours. 

As always, Hendrik was remarkably quick with his cleaning up.  He’d always been the fastest at it on the road, so much so that Erik wasn’t entirely sure if he was human.  He didn’t look like he rushed, either. In fact, he was dressed nice, and looked like a bit of a prick. 

Erik couldn’t pinpoint the look on Sylvando’s face.  As good as he was with reading most people, Sylvando was an enigma and Erik could only ever tell was that something was off. 

Erik felt a nudge to his side.  He braced himself for the next barrage of flirting, so when Eleven tilted his head toward the other two and rolled his eyes pointedly, it confused him. 

Erik lowered his brows, just enough for Eleven to see.  The slight smirk that Erik only just noticed dropped off Eleven’s face.  He rolled his eyes again, directed at Erik this time, and under the table signed, ‘Later.’ 

“What’s going on under my nice dining table, darlings?”  Sylvando purred. He chuckled when both of their faces shot bright red.  “Oh, I am happy for you two, truly. But let’s keep it to the bedroom, hm?” 

Moving as one, as they so often did, Erik and Eleven both landed their faces on the table with matching mortified groans. 



“Hey,” Erik said, not long after their feet touched Drasilian soil once more.  “I’m gonna chill for a bit. It was, uh, kinda loud at breakfast.” 

Eleven’s brows tugged together almost imperceptibly before smoothing as if nothing had happened.  ‘You okay?’ It was a casual question, but also a reminder. He’d promised he wouldn’t worry, as long as Erik promised he’d tell him he’d say what was wrong if anything was. 

Guilt stabbed at Erik for using his boyfriend’s understanding nature for less than innocent reasons, but he couldn’t think of anything better so quickly. 

“Yeah, just need to be alone for a while.  Don’t keep your grandad waiting this time. You’re meeting up in an hour, don’t forget.” 

Eleven huffed.  ‘Last time was your fault, and you know it.’ 

Erik tilted his head with a grin.  “Was it? I don’t remember that.” He took a half step forward, close enough that they almost bumped together.  “Maybe you can jog my memory tonight.” 

Eleven poked him back with a snicker.  ‘Get going, you horndog. I’ll see you after we’re done with paperwork?’ 

“Rab’s got a mountain he’s been putting off so he can shove it all on you.  Even if I counted every brick in the castle you still wouldn’t be done.” 

‘So I’ll see you?’ 

“Yeah, yeah.”  Erik kissed the corner of his mouth, and found himself tugged in to kiss him full on the lips.  “Love you,” he murmured, still close. 

Eleven put his hand between their chests, with just enough room to say, ‘Same.’ 



Erik pushed open the door.  The delicate tinkle of the bell caused him to flinch.  Gemma must have installed a new, louder one. He didn’t really want to shop in Dundrasil, much less at the store of someone he knew, but it wasn’t as though he had much choice.  The only way to travel without taking weeks would be on Eleven’s arm. 

Or Veronica’s, but there was no way in hell he’d ask for her help in this. 

It was fortunate that Gemma didn’t seem to be in.  She must have been off for a late breakfast, or something of the sort.  In her absence, a pair of young people tended the front. The young lady, one of Gemma’s brief flings back when she moved here.  The other, blond even lighter than Serena’s, a face he didn’t recognize.  

They both hopped up, the speed of reaction to the bell that of someone who’s never had to fight for their lives.  Erik was glad. 

He waved off their offers of assistance, and set out on his own for now.  If he could limit the amount of human interaction with this, he would. Even if it meant his clothes wouldn’t fit quite the way they needed to. 

He was out of his element.  That could describe a lot that’s happened in the past year, but he got out of clothes shopping whenever he could.  It helped that Gemma tended to send whatever up to him, not to mention his boyfriend was a skilled hand at clothesmaking himself, on the rare times Erik had a request. 

He wandered the pants, finding more made for sturdiness or swanky meet-ups than for his specific… needs, but he wasn’t quite ready to mortify himself by approaching the more suggestive clothing just yet. 

“Isn’t that the prince’s consort?” a whisper from the counter’s direction asked.  Erik froze in his steps. Were he any less alert to his surroundings, he wouldn’t have heard it. 

“The prince is married?”   He would have heard that even if he hadn’t spent so long being carefully attuned to his surroundings.  The other hissed out a shush, and the next words were much quieter. “He didn’t seem the type!” 

Erik swallowed thickly.  He wasn’t, as far as Erik knew.  Eleven had dodged the subject every time Jade or Rab or anyone else would jokingly bring it up, and that said enough as far as Erik was concerned. 

It was fine, Erik kept telling himself.  They hadn’t been together that long, and were still really young.  He wasn’t the type either. 

Or, at least, he thought he wasn’t. 

He physically shook his head, as if the spiraling thoughts would fall out of his ears if he rattled them hard enough.  He was in here to turn his boyfriend on, not obsess over taking the next step with him. Not that there were any more steps they needed to take. 

The door jingled, finally drawing his attention away from eavesdropping. 

“Hey,” he said, raising a hand in greeting. 

Gemma’s jaw dropped and she marched toward him.  “What’re you doing in ‘ere, then? ‘Lev just told me you were ‘oled up in a corner somewhere!” 

Erik felt too warm, in his face especially.  “Noth- nothing-” Her face was downright thunderous.  He’d just about forgotten how frighteningly protective this otherwise gentle woman was over Eleven.  “It’s a surprise, Gemma, don’t murder me.” 

Like a match being struck, the tension in her face was replaced by eager curiosity in less than a moment.  “Ooh, what’s that then?” 

Damnit, now I have to tell her, don’t I?   “It’s… uh…” 

Without his permission, his eyes strayed to the bedroom wear.  Gemma caught on immediately, far before he could pull his gaze over to something less incriminating. 

“So, what did you ‘ave in mind?” 


It took five minutes and a lot of grunting, but Erik finally managed to get himself into the pants Gemma’d shoved at him.  He glanced himself up and down in the mirror. He felt odd. It was a lot of leather, and a lot tighter around certain bits than he usually liked. 

He’d probably ditch his underclothes if he took these home.  That would help the fit. It wasn’t as though he’d be spending a lot of time in them, anyway.  Despite the lack of breathing room, it was surprisingly comfortable, for the most part. 

He turned around, finding them much easier to move around in that he expected, and checked how it looked from behind. 


These pants made his ass look tighter than a snare drum.  Eleven was asking for an entirely different purpose with these.  Not that Erik would be caught complaining. 

Erik bit his lip.  He needed to save it for when Eleven was ready, but it was so tempting to use it for that purpose right now.  

Deciding he’d get them either way, he started to tug them off, finding them much more clingy than he anticipated.  The leather tugged painfully at his leg hairs as he fought harder, and didn’t seem to want to let go. 

After clattering around enough to warrant a few worried shouts from Gemma and her employees, he found himself ten minutes older and a sticky pair of leather pants lighter, upside-down in a heap on the floor. 



The clicks of Erik’s shoes on stone sounded loud to his ears.  This wing of the castle was always quiet as the grave, especially at this time of day.  The castle staff was still sparse, despite having no shortage of people from all over the world clamoring for a spot.  Even if it weren’t, nobody but the king and his grandson would have a reason to be hanging out in a dusty, ill stocked library on a beautiful day like this. 

Erik slipped in quietly, the new, unrusted hinges making hardly a hint of sound.  The floor was covered in a plush carpet, muffling his steps. Erik needed to bring up having a guard with them in the library.  It was too easy to sneak up on them. 

Oh, I’m becoming a worrywart.  Fantastic. 

His feet took to silence instinctively, his mind to mischief after a year of peace spoiled it.  Rab noticed him immediately - maybe they were more careful than Erik gave them credit for - but Eleven was wrapped up in the story Rab was telling, with his back to the door. 

Erik winked, signaling Rab to play along.  With only a wink that could have been mistaken for a speck of dust in his eye, Rab continued his story without a hiccup. 

Erik sidled up along the back of Eleven’s chair, then grabbed Eleven’s face, covering his eyes.  “Guess who,” he whispered. 

Eleven sat up with a jolt.  Some time ago, Erik wouldn’t have dared to do that.  Not if he didn’t want to get gutted. But Eleven had relaxed a lot, even with how anal he was about keeping up with training, and he no longer went through life assuming whatever surprised him was out to eat him alive. 

Well, at least in the not-fun way. 

Eleven grinned, hands swiping blindly at his face to grab Erik’s. 

“You didn’t guess,” Erik complained. 

“Och, laddie, d’a really think it’d be anyone else?” 

“Gemma?” Erik pointed out, curling around Eleven’s back like a knapsack as his hands were pulled close to his chest.  “Jade would. Veronica, too, if she could reach.” 

“Aye, that’s fair.” 

Erik stood up and leaned against Eleven’s shoulder.  “Are you guys done in here? I need to…” He glanced at Eleven.  “Ah, borrow him for a second.” 

Rab raised a brow.  “A second? Crivens,” he chuckled, “ye don’t last very long, do ye?” 

Erik sputtered, temporarily unbalanced by Eleven doubling over laughing.  He grumbled, pulling himself back upright. 

Rab stood with a loud grunt.  “Well, have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” 

Eleven looked up, his eyes still squinting with mirth.  ‘Didn’t you do something unsavory on the throne in your youth?’ 

“What?!”   Erik yelped. 

Rab chortled.  “Hey, hey now, laddie, that was supposed to be our little secret!” 

Eleven joined in the laughter, and it was contagious enough to draw a nervous chuckle from Erik. 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve actually-” Erik cut off when he was fixed with two knowing looks.  “Great.”  

“Well, I’m off tae read the latest article- ah, in Noble’s Events.  Of course.” 

‘Yes, that’s a thing, I’m sure.’ 

“El,” Erik squeaked.  Eleven was in a mood.  He wasn’t normally so crass.

“Och, leave the lad be, will ye?  He’s been pining for ye all day, and I don’t mean in a romantic way.” 

There went the red ears. 

“I’ll leave ye both with that!” Rab called, backing toward the exit.  It was a miracle he didn’t trip, but they all did that to some extent, just in case Eleven had anything to say. 

The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the emptier library.  Rab had no affinity for stealth, that much was certain. It wasn’t hard to muffle that door. 

Eleven glanced around the table.  ‘He left everything for me to clean up.’ 

“What did you expect?”  Erik glanced at a pen that had fallen to the floor, mischievous thoughts bubbling to the surface.  “I’ll help.” 

‘Thank you,’ he signed with a sweet smile.  Oh, that’s the last I’m going to see of that look for the afternoon.  He’s going to kill me if not rail me into the carpet.  

“Of course,” he said, standing up.  He reached across Eleven’s body to pick up the first stack of papers, leaning in close to his ear to whisper, “Anything for you.” 

The blush, which had started to fade, was back with a vengeance.  Eleven’s eyes grew wide. Erik kissed the tip of his ear, shoving down the urge to nip it. 

Eleven’s hand fisted in Erik’s shirt.  Erik spun away with a grin, taking another step back as Eleven followed. 

“Hey, don't we need to clean up?” Erik said, voice a little too low for Eleven to not realize he was doing it on purpose.  “Come and help me.” 

That look in Eleven’s eyes.  He’d found the meaning hidden behind Erik’s words.  

“Come and get me.”  

Erik tackled most of the cleaning.  Not so much because he felt like he should - he had half a mind to drag Eleven away and leave Rab to pick up later.  But he loved getting chased, and knew Eleven loved chasing him. Those frustrated little growls when Erik slipped just out of reach had Erik grinning so wide his face hurt. 

He rounded the table, glancing over his shoulder.  He’d put some distance between himself and Eleven - too much distance.  Then he saw the pen, still on the floor. 

He bit back a snicker as he dipped down to retrieve it, bending the knees far too little for a quick swipe.  His fingertips only just made contact with the cool metal of the pen when he felt a presence behind him. 

“Need something?” he purred as hands slipped under the hem of his tunic, making quick progress to get to his ass where they belonged.  He righted himself, but left his hips jutted toward Eleven in invitation. 

An invitation that was taken eagerly. 

Eleven’s hands moved from his ass to his hips, and Erik was pulled back.  Eleven was already rock hard, and Erik could feel it through the layers of their clothing.  Arousal curled deep in his belly. He rocked his hips, and Eleven shuddered from head to toe. 

“Oh,” Erik said, easily maneuvering out of Eleven’s grasp.  “I better put this pen down. All the way over here.” 

He only made it a few steps before he heard a knock. 

His eyes shot to the door.  Did Rab forget something?  Now’s really not a good time!   But the direction didn’t sound like it had come from there. 

His eyes went back to Eleven.  He stood, fist still hovering over the wooden table.  He breathed heavily, wearing the most desperate expression Erik had seen on him to date. 

‘Come back.  Please.’ 

It was probably fine to just leave the pen on the floor, where it fell out of Erik’s hand.  He might be an insufferable tease, but he had his limits. 

His angel looking that sad was his limit. 

Eleven’s arms locked around Erik in a vice grip the second he was close enough.  He crushed their mouths together, and they both reeled back a bit. 

“Ow,” Erik grumbled, already leaning back in to kiss him properly. 


Eleven shook in his arms every time they ground their hips together.  He was noisy this time, and couldn’t keep still. He was falling apart in Erik’s hands, and they hadn’t even gotten their clothes off yet. 

“El,” Erik breathed when they came up for air.  “Let’s head back to our room.” 

Eleven clenched his jaw, his breath hissing through his teeth.  He took a half step back, and Erik still felt the warm imprint of his arms where he’d been holding him. 

‘I can’t wait that long.’ 

Erik snorted.  “What, are we gonna fuck in the library?” 

Eleven’s eyes shot around the room, before settling on a small door in the corner.  He half jogged toward it, Erik trailing behind, confused. There were just a few brooms and dustpans in there, so why- 


As soon as the door opens, Erik is crowded against the wall opposite it.  

Eleven kicks the door closed as they pass.  Erik can only just see him by the dim light coming in through the cracks. 

Eleven reaches into his inner coat pocket and brings out a small object.  Erik catches the shine of glass, and feels like he’s going to die right there. 

“There isn’t a lock,” Erik points out.  His voice is remarkably calm, considering all he wants is to say yes, do it, fuck me right now.  

Erik takes the bottle from Eleven’s hand instinctively when he holds it out to him.  ‘We’re just going to have to stay quiet, then.’ 

We aren’t very good at that, he doesn’t say.  “I bet I can stay quieter than you can,” he does say, starting to scramble with the laces of his pants. 

Erik is spun around and shoved against the wall.  Eleven pulls Erik’s pants off the rest of the way for him, stretching the fabric carelessly over his shoes.  Erik’s breath sounds loud against the cool stone, and the rustling of clothes accompanies it. 

It’s a shame that he’ll probably have to keep his tunic on, if they don’t want to worsen a sour situation should someone actually walk in.  But it isn’t too big a loss.  His shirts rarely go above the collar, perfect for easy access for- 

Eleven’s hand slides between the laces.  Erik inhales sharply, fingers curling, grip tightening on the glass bottle in his hand.  The rough pad of Eleven’s thumb, calloused from constant sword practice and his time at the forge, brushes over Erik’s bud.  Erik bites down on his lip to keep from making any sounds and leans back against Eleven’s chest in the limited space. 

He feels hair tickle his cheek and quickly bares his neck.  Eleven noses up the line of his throat, circling his fingers, and grazes his teeth the way back down.  The start of a moan escapes Erik’s lips before he manages to muffle it. 

If I’m already forgetting myself, we’re going to have a problem.  

Eleven’s free hand trails down Erik’s hip and brushes his dick through his low-hanging tunic, and it doesn’t feel like a problem. 

Eleven’s hand slips under the hem and wraps firmly around Erik’s dick.  He half expects the glass to crack, his lip to bleed, as hard as he grips the jar, his teeth bite down.  He arches his back, tilting his head to give Eleven more room to cover his neck in wonderful bites. 

He can’t tell what to focus on; everything is feeling so good all at once.  The nips to his neck grow increasingly aggressive. Eleven’s surprisingly deft fingers continue to work him both under the shirt and below the belt. 

He rocks his hips back.  His ass rolls clumsily over the bulge in Eleven’s pants, and Eleven’s breath leaves him like he’d been punched.  Eleven bites down, hard, and Erik’s vision goes fuzzy. 

“C-” he bites back another moan.  “C’mon, is your whole plan to give me a handjob?” 

Eleven’s hand pauses, mouth not quite stopping with the marks on his skin. 

“El, El, I need you,” he whispers, before he can let himself drift away in the pleasure. 

The loss of sensation all over his body almost makes him beg Eleven to come back and finish him with his hands, but he knows it’ll be so completely worth it to wait.  Eleven tugs the jar out of Erik’s grasp, his skin sticking to the glass with how hard he’d been gripping it. He shakes his wrist to clear the feeling. 

Eleven tugs him by the hips, encouraging him to bend forward.  He taps Erik’s inner thigh, signaling him to move his legs apart. 

Despite the huge rush Eleven is in, he takes his sweet time teasing Erik, running his hands down his hips, kneading the flesh.  He slides his fingertips down the cleft and only brushes the entrance before drawing back. 

Erik hears the seal of the jar click open.  He lets out a slow exhale, relaxing against his arms on the wall.  Eleven slides his finger in slowly, easily. 

Erik’s eyes fall closed, and he finds himself shuffling his stance wider.  Eleven crooks his finger, and Erik’s back arches. The stone feels wrong against his hands.  He wants something warmer. 

“El,” he whispers.  Then, at full volume, “El?” 

Eleven’s hand pauses. 

“I got an idea.  Let me turn around.” 

The finger leaves him, and even though it had only been one, he already feels too empty.  He turns, and puts his hands on Eleven’s shoulders. 

“Sit for me?” 

Eleven hums into a kiss as Erik guides him to the floor.  He knocks over a broom on the way down, causing a loud clatter. 

Erik chuckles, straddling his lap, and Eleven joins in.  “Nice, ba- mmm.” 

He doesn’t know what he’d been planning to say after that, but it really doesn’t matter, because Eleven is kissing him, and his finger is going back in, and the other hand comes up to run over his nipples only once before dropping to his dick.  The hand disappears for a distressing moment, coming back far less distressingly slick, and Erik whines as it pumps him. 

Eleven taps a second finger to Erik’s rim.  “Go for it,” he whispers against Eleven’s lips. 

He moans at the stretch.  Eleven always goes wild at this point, and this is no exception.  He pumps his fingers in and out, squirming under Erik, beautifully into just how into it Erik is.  He targets Erik’s spot, and keeps targeting it, and it’s a miracle that Erik manages to stay quiet after that.  His lips might flat-out need healing magic, though. 

He bites down on Eleven’s neck, pulling a shudder out of him.  His hands run down his chest, until reaching the seam of Eleven’s pants.  He’s still wearing those?  Better fix that.  

“Let’s get these off you,” he whispers against Eleven’s throat. 

Eleven nods and lift his hips with his legs alone, hands not pausing.  Erik pulls the pants down just enough to free him. He eagerly scrambles for Eleven’s dick, taking it in both hands.  Eleven’s head falls back with a soft whine. 

“Shhh,” Erik hisses.  He bites down on the junction of Eleven’s shoulder, only succeeding in pulling more sounds from his lips.  He shushes him again, gentler this time. 

Eleven obeys, only barely, and scissors his fingers.  Erik is suddenly the one needing to be shushed. 

His hips move on their own, trying to pull Eleven’s fingers deeper.  The stretch, the feeling of Eleven’s callused fingers so deep inside him, the thought of how much deeper and thicker something else is going to be, it’s all so much.  It’s only Eleven’s hand, still slick with lube, covering his mouth that stops him from crying out. 

He groans, muffled by the hand, as Eleven keeps up the pace.  Were he in any less of a state of arousal, he might be mortified by the oil’s taste in his mouth.  But he isn’t; the last of his remaining brain power is being used to keep himself from biting down on Eleven’s hand hard enough to hurt him. 

Soon enough, he finds himself needy again.  Eleven’s hand follows his mouth before backing off, realizing Erik is trying to speak. 

“More,” he murmurs.  “C’mon, I’m ready, please.”  

Eleven pulls out completely, Erik growling at the loss.  Eleven's hands fumble for long enough that it gets concerning before a sigh of relief, a liquidy sound, and then paradise once more. 

Eleven leans toward his lips; Erik eagerly captures his.  Eleven is distracting him from the stretch, to soothe him.  Which means he’s getting another right-  

Eleven sticks his tongue deep in Erik’s mouth, muffling the guttural moan.  Eleven moves slowly, taking great care. In the small part of his brain still functioning, Erik appreciates the care. 

But even amongst the loving gentleness - perhaps especially - the stretch lights a fire inside him.  He needs something else, now.   He can’t wait much longer. 

Erik swirls his hips over Eleven’s lap, trying to speed up the process.  He’s too far gone to notice the pain until Eleven stills him with a firm grab on the hip. 

Erik hisses, and forces himself to calm down.  Eleven holds his hand perfectly still, not yanking out in panic, nor continuing to move like nothing happened.  He kisses along Erik’s forehead, using his free hand to help Erik stay upright. 

“Sorry,” Erik whispers after a moment.  “I’m good now, don’t worry.” 

Eleven gazes up at him, and even in the dim light Erik can read his expression.  “I’m always worried,” his eyes say.  But Eleven trusts Erik to know his limits, and gets back to moving eventually. 

Erik sighs.  It’s slower than what his arousal demands, but from a year of practice, Eleven knows what he’s doing.  Any faster and he would be right back where he started. Erik snuggles into Eleven’s neck, humming contentedly, and Eleven runs his hand up and down his back. 

Right as Erik is about to demand it, Eleven reads him and picks up speed.  Erik nips Eleven’s shoulder to stop himself from making any noise, but this makes Eleven whine quietly. 

Erik doesn’t want him to stop. 

He loves hearing him.  Desperate to hear more, he wraps his hand around Eleven’s dick again and pumps him clumsily. 

Eleven’s hips thrust up into Erik’s hand.  He lets out a low moan, so quiet Erik can only just hear him, with his ear right next to his mouth. 

Eleven’s hand movements become sporadic.  He trembles under him, no longer making noises but clearly wanting to.  Erik’s hands itch to go to the exact places that would force the sounds from his lips, but he decides against it.  He doesn’t want this to stop. 

The tension fades, giving way to pleasure, even as Eleven spreads his fingers. 

“Okay,” Erik whispers, Eleven pulling out slowly, “how do you want me?” 

With the hand that isn’t soaked, Eleven pushes up on the back of Erik’s thighs, signaling him to stand.  He does so on shaky legs, and probably would have fallen if not for Eleven catching him around the waist.  He has no idea how he’ll stand the whole time, but for Eleven, and for the railing he’s about to get, he’ll sure try. 

He hears more slick sounds behind him, of Eleven lubing himself up, and his fingers curl at the hum of Eleven pleasing himself.  He feels the spark of Eleven’s magic in the air, forming a liquid barrier. It’s so close he can practically taste it, practically feel it sliding into him. 

Eleven slides his dick along the cleft of Erik’s cheeks.  He crowds Erik against the wall, and Erik can feel his muscles through the fabric of both their clothing.  He wishes, now more than ever, that they had shed more clothing, so he could be feeling more. Hell, Eleven's pants aren't even fully off. 

Eleven drops his still lube-slick hand to Erik’s dick, and Erik muffles a moan into his own wrist.  He slides the other up and down Erik’s body, under his tunic wherever the sash isn’t blocking his reach.  His hand slides between the laces of his shirt to tease him under it, just for a moment, before disappearing entirely to line himself up. 

Erik leans further forward, inhaling sharply at the pressure on his rim.  He pushes in, nice and slow, just as careful and gentle as he always is. Erik wishes that he’d just hurry the hell up already.  He doesn’t know what kind of time they have. 

He rocks his ass toward Eleven’s hips, pushing him deeper, and they both moan, cutting off at almost the exact same time as they remember to be quiet. 

We really aren’t good at being quiet.  

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s known about them doing raunchy stuff in places they shouldn’t, but there’s a difference between the thrill of almost being caught and actually being seen.  Erik doesn’t want to cross that line. 

He wants Eleven all to himself. 

Finally, finally, Eleven is all the way in.  He pauses, letting Erik get used to the feeling.  Erik appreciates the consideration, he really does, but he needs him, and this, and to be fucked so hard he can’t walk. 

He rocks his hips again to encourage Eleven to move.  When that doesn’t light a fire under his ass, he leans back onto Eleven’s shoulder. 

His back is arched, almost painfully, but Eleven distracts him from that when he starts to leave open mouthed kisses along Erik’s neck.  He won’t let himself be distracted, though, and grabs a handful of hair, bouncing his ass against Eleven’s hips as he tugs. 

That might have been a mistake, but it doesn’t feel like a mistake when Eleven lets out those beautiful whines, and fucks Erik like he’s desperately needing.  It’s only Erik’s grip in Eleven’s hair, and Eleven’s on his hip, that keeps him from falling forward. He wants to scream, finally, finally, but instead he bites his lip so hard he thinks he might taste blood. 

Eleven is so deep it’s ridiculous, catching his spot but not targeting it with every thrust, bringing Erik closer to his breaking point.  He’s either going to scream or he’s going to cum. He’s probably going to do both, and he’s starting to forget why he should care. 

Eleven grabs Erik’s shoulder tightly, the other hand a bruising grip on his hip, and forces him forward against the cold wall.  He slams in, then, and that’s the point Erik loses the remaining scraps of his self control. He screams, muffled only slightly by the arm he’d fallen against, and only stops short when Eleven’s hips do. 

He gasps against the wall, hips rocking back without his permission, silently begging Eleven to continue but knowing why he wasn’t.  Eleven shoves one hand in Erik’s mouth, and wipes the remaining lube off the other on Erik’s tunic. 

That will be noticeable, when they get out of here.  Not that Erik is complaining. He doesn’t mind a little attention. 

Eleven puts a steadying hand on Erik’s ass, rubbing gently as he slowly, too slowly, starts moving again.  Erik lets out a whine - his control is toast. All he wants is more, and he knows Eleven likes hearing him, despite the precarious situation they’re in. 

Eleven pauses at the sound, and only when Erik stops making it does he move again.  His hand presses into Erik’s ass with a warning pressure. 

Erik breathes heavily.  He knows what game Eleven’s playing.  He wants to beat him at it, to make Eleven be the noisy one, but he doesn’t have much control at this angle.  Right now, he doesn’t feel the need to grab that control. Not as much as he needs to get fucked so hard Eleven has to carry him back. 

He looks over his shoulder, trying to catch Eleven’s gaze in the dim light.  Eleven looks just as far gone as Erik feels, and it’s a wonder he’s managing as much control as he is.  Even more so, as much as Eleven loves Erik’s eyes on him. 

That moment of intimacy seems to have broken Eleven out of whatever plan he had, and he goes back to moving like Erik wants.  Erik feels the moans on his tongue, like a weight he’s trying to swallow, but can’t quite. They’re going to slip out of his mouth at this rate, and the cost is Eleven stopping. 

He’s getting close. 

Maybe it’s the pseudo edging, maybe the risk, maybe it’s just his neediness, but Erik is ridiculously close and he’s going to explode before the fun can really start.  He holds off for as long as he can before whispering a warning. 

“El, El I’m- ha-”  He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence, because all of a sudden he hears a smack and feels a sting on his ass cheek. 

He didn’t know he was into that.  He isn’t ready for the arousal that lights him from the inside out, and doesn’t realize until Eleven pulls out completely that his partner is panicking. 

Erik squints at the sudden mage light Eleven casts, illuminating the dim closet. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ Eleven frets.  ‘I shouldn’t have done that, I should have talked to you about it first, oh goddess I’m so sorry-” 

“El,” Erik says.  Eleven drops his hands to his sides like they’re being yanked down, his right hand still balled into a fist from the apologies he was about to repeat.  Erik takes a moment to catch his breath. “I liked it,” he says. “I’d rather you ask beforehand next time, but I liked it.” 

The lines on Eleven’s forehead fade, his shoulders drooping as he relaxes.  He cups Erik’s cheek and kisses him sweetly. 

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” Erik grumbles against Eleven’s lips. 

Eleven laughs breathily.  He steps back to give Erik room to turn toward the wall again, and then he’s curling around his back, hiking Erik’s tunic up even higher. 

He goes in easy, kissing Erik’s neck as he fucks him slow, taking his sweet time to build back up to speed.  Erik rocks his hips back, silently begging him to go faster, harder. “El,” he whispers, “please.”  

Eleven grabs Erik’s hips, the warm hands in a bruising grip, and gives one, two, three hard thrusts in quick succession.  It’s a miracle Erik doesn’t scream, silently exhaling with a wide open mouth, eyes screwing shut. He melts where he stands, only staying upright by his hands bracing against the wall and Eleven’s death grip on his waist. 

Erik moves his arms between his head and the wall to lean against it; his head would bang against it if he doesn’t.  Eleven doesn’t let up his pace, fucking him harder and faster, and oh, Erik can’t even think to muffle his rising shout. 

Eleven smacks him again, and it only serves to raise the volume.  His hand is shoved into Erik’s mouth. It tastes like sweat and smells of musk, but he can’t bring himself to care.  It succeeds where everything else failed in muffling his moans, but not stopping them, and it’s apparently good enough for Eleven, and apparently he was holding back, but he isn’t now. 

“Oh,” Erik gasps around Eleven’s hand, it only comes out as a muffled gargle.  He repeats the sound as Eleven repeats the movement that pulled it out of him, again, again, again. 

Erik grabs Eleven’s wrist and squeezes it as the heat builds to feverish, tightening as his abdomen tightens, whining around the hand as the movements bring him to the edge and stop suddenly.  He claws at Eleven’s forearm, silently begging, and Eleven starts again, slowly, too slowly, El please, he mentally pleads, but he won’t, and Erik’s been so close for so long he’s about to cry, he swears he is. 

His breath punches out in a low, muffled whine, he pushes against the wall to lean into Eleven’s space, his freed hand grappling for his hair again.  He has no shame in using dirty tricks to get his way, and as Eleven’s whines join with his, he picks up speed, Erik rocking his hips with the movements. 

Another slap rings out, and Erik flinches, his rising orgasm temporarily delayed.  He pulls Eleven’s hand out of his mouth, Eleven pausing as he notices the change in mood. 

“Not that hard,” Erik whispers.  “Maybe take a break from the spanking for now?” 

Eleven nods the hand that Erik is still holding onto, bringing the other up in a fist against Erik’s heart.  He circles it counterclockwise in apology, the warm imprint of that same hand pleasantly burning on Erik’s waist. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Erik says.  “Just… please, fuck me.”  

Erik can feel the smug grin against the back of his neck, right before he bites down hard, covering Erik’s mouth just in time to block the yelp.  His other hand wanders with a purpose, and oh, Erik isn’t thinking about how close he is until Eleven starts moving again, and his toes curl in his shoes as a shiver rises from his heels up through his stomach. 

Erik lets out a strangled moan as the dry orgasm rocks through him.  He isn’t done by far, and neither is Eleven, fucking into him through the shakes. 

His arm curls sweetly around Erik’s chest as his legs finally give out, only holding him up just enough to keep going clumsily.  Erik is too fucked out to yell anymore, but the hand that moves down to work his dick makes him want to. 

“E-El,” he slurs, stuttered by his trembling, “let’s sit down?” 

Eleven whines, curling his fingers in a way that punches the breath from Erik’s lungs.  He doesn’t want to stop for anything - neither does Erik, for that matter - but he doesn’t know how long his legs will last in this state. 

“Angel,” he murmurs. 

With great effort that Erik can feel in the shudder of his arms, Eleven slows to a stop, exhaling against Erik’s neck.  He holds Erik steady as he pulls back, then out, Erik flinching at the loss of pressure. 

Without the awkward angle, Erik’s legs solidify before they even reach the ground.  He thanks his constant training for that. Because it’s Eleven’s turn to get ruined.  Erik waited long enough to take control, and now it’s his. 

Eleven doesn’t see it coming when he loops his arms around him, a sweet gentleness to the way he holds him.  Erik almost feels bad for how sudden he flips the script, but it doesn’t look like Eleven is complaining. 

Eleven lay on his back, gasping, knees bent awkwardly in the small space.  Erik holds his arms above his head, loose enough that Eleven can move if he wants to, but tight enough to make him not want to.   His eyes are wide as he stares up at Erik, as if he hung the moon. 

Erik leans down, close to Eleven’s ear.  “Let me finish this for you,” he purrs. 

Eleven nods eagerly, grabbing at his hips as if to say “get going already!”  

Erik reaches back to line himself up.  He comes down in one quick movement, flinching at the suddenness despite his body being used to the stretch.  He isn’t complaining, though, because Eleven’s back comes off the ground with how steeply he arches it, opening his mouth in a silent scream. 

He’s close, Erik realizes, as he gives himself a few shallow fucks, getting used to the new angle.  He can tell in the way Eleven squirms, the way he paws at his tunic blindly, helplessly, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth working open and closed in a sporadic rhythm. 

Eleven takes a sharp inhale, his breath now held, and Erik freezes his movements and grabs a handful of Eleven’s hair, pulling his head back to the ground.  Eleven’s eyes fly open, his hands flopping wildly on Erik’s hips, as the orgasm flees him. 

“Not so fun, is it,” Erik growls in his ear.  Eleven breathes heavily, letting out one soft whine, and tugs at Erik’s hips. 

Erik keeps himself perfectly still until Eleven stops acting so needy.  Eleven lets his hands wander, gently petting his sides and stomach with his horrifyingly powerful puppy eyes, and Erik can’t deny him any longer. 

He rocks back down, running his hands gently through the hair he’d been yanking on.  Eleven moans, eyes falling closed. His hands continue their path down Erik’s stomach before meeting at his dick, working it with both hands. 

Erik feels fit to burst, even more so as one of the hands moves lower to feel him, but he builds up to an unforgiving pace, going harder and faster the more Eleven squirms.  Eleven moans again, louder this time, and Erik shoves his fingers into his mouth. 

Eleven starts thrusting up to meet Erik, groaning around the fingers, sucking them deeper into his mouth.  He slides his tongue out under them, as far as it’ll reach, his eyes squeezing tighter and thrusts growing more desperate. 

The telltale shiver hits Erik again, this time much stronger, just as Eleven’s movements suddenly speed up and then sputter out.  He cries out around Erik’s fingers - if anyone is in the library they’d surely hear him - and then his body turns to pudding. 

His hands go limp too, but only for a second before Erik growls in his ear.  Erik pulls off, the cum popping out of existence as the spell dissipates. Eleven’s fingers aren’t the best replacement, but he’s gotten a lot better and they do just fine as he works Erik’s dick and sweet spot in tandem. 

It isn’t long before Erik is curling in on himself over Eleven’s hips.  He hisses, Eleven working him right through it, spilling all over both their shirts. 

He tumbles right into the wet spot, panting, Eleven’s soaked hands shamelessly wrapping around his back to dry them on the bottom of his tunic. 

“Shit,” Erik whispers as soon as he’s caught his breath.  Eleven laughs silently, the chest under Erik’s face shaking, and he can’t bring himself to be even mildly annoyed. 



They stood on the edge, bodies tensed as if for combat, hand in hand.  Eleven had zoomed them to Sniflheim because Erik was familiar with the place there, but standing here on the precipice, he was realizing it might have been a mistake. 

As children, he and Mia often harassed the patrons going in and out.  It wasn’t so much for their own amusement, rather, anyone willing to spend money on sex toys would surely be able to spare a bit of food for a pair of malnourished orphans.  That kept them from starving, way back when. 

Erik avoided the inside like the plague, but Mia was a different story.  She had a mischievous curiosity, and there was no place more tempting to explore than one where children really shouldn’t be.  He’d had to chase her down multiple times, and the shop owner was beyond convinced it was his fault and not hers. 

‘Sweetheart, you look like you’re about to be sick.’ 

Erik chuckled awkwardly.  “Let’s just hope there’s been a change in ownership.” 

There had not been a change of ownership.  And Erik’s hopes of it having been long enough that he would be unrecognizable were quickly dashed as well.  Seven years hadn’t changed the owner much, and that included the way they lowered their bushy brow. 

Fuck.   Even better - he couldn’t remember their name to save his life. 

Erik waved awkwardly.  “Hey.” 

Their glare only deepened, stopping Eleven’s polite little wave in its tracks. 

Oh hell no.   “What?” Erik asked, voice taking an edge.  Mistakenly holding a grudge against Erik was one thing.  Taking it out on a man who’s never done anything wrong in his life was an entirely different story. 

Well, Erik mentally amended, remembering the sweet torture Eleven put him through the day before, almost never.  

“You know what.”  They continued to wipe the counter, eyes not leaving the pair.  The intimidating glare was greatly diminished by the two foot dildo hanging above their head holy shit and I thought El’s dick was big.  

“No,” he said, lowering his voice and stepping in front of Eleven, shielding him instinctively.  “I don’t think I do. And I don’t like the way you’re looking at-” he cut off at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.  He sighed, the anger leaving him like water from a cracked bowl. “It’s been seven years, can we give it a rest?” 

“Seven-” they mouthed.  “I’m getting old,” they said, and turned to another customer.  

That was all the permission Erik was going to get.  Downright affectionate, in his experience with this one. 

Erik shot a smirk at Eleven as he moved to browse, receiving a nervous smile in return.  Eleven relaxed by the time he took his first step to follow. As long as Erik pretended to be calm, Eleven would calm down as well. 

It wasn’t the first time Erik had seen more dirty stuff in one place than he could comprehend.  He’d opened the wrong drawer in Rab’s room going for a key at one point, and that was more than he ever needed to see.  To see all this organized with all the care of a high-end clothing store, with all the casualty of a grocer, it was a bit overwhelming. 

He didn’t recognize half of the stuff, and most he did recognize surely dyed his face a bright red.  There was an entire wall dedicated to pornographic magazines, the Ogler’s Digest with the highest ticket among several others he didn’t want to recognize.  There was such a high volume of… phallic objects of so many shapes and sizes that his remaining brain power shorted out. 

His eyes caught on a candlelit corner, filled with what appeared at first glance to be innocuous spell tomes.  Then he recognized one of the sigils. 

It was the liquid barrier spell that Eleven so often used when they got it on in… less than ideal places. 

Erik’s eyes focused in on the books, now knowing the context, and saw all manner of kinks.  Some he was mostly familiar with, others he could never guess without putting himself through the ordeal of researching it himself.  Frost, heat, orgasm denial- what do you mean, “tentacles?!”   He quickly looked away. 

Eleven’s face was noticeably redder than Erik felt his own to be.  Erik could take a lot more of this nature than Eleven could, and this was far from an exception to that poor country prince.  His eyes were darting around, landing and leaping off sex dolls, handcuffs, potions, and others. 

Then his eyes focused on one thing. 

His hand grazed along a whip - relatively simple, too short and too soft for combat.  He frowned, lost in thought. 

“See something you like?” Erik whispered. 

‘The quality of this is shit.’ 

Erik almost snorted.  “I don’t think it’s for fighting monsters, babe.” 

Eleven shook his head.  ‘I mean it’ll fall to pieces if you lightly swing it a few times.  I could make something better in my sleep.’ 

Erik bit his lip, questioning the implications of what he was about to say.  “So why don’t you?” 

That got him a wide-eyed look.  Eleven looked down at the whip contemplatively, then back up at him. 

“Just a suggestion.”  Erik tilted his head. “I mean, we’re in here for ideas, right?” 

Eleven was so red Erik could have sworn he was turning as purple as his duster. 

“Hey,” Erik murmured, touching his shoulder, “we can leave if you need-” 


The full force of Eleven’s gaze caught Erik off guard.  “Yeah?” 

Eleven swallowed thickly.  He looked like he was about to charge in and do something rash; it was the look he would make mere seconds before getting bodied by whatever monster was putting the team in too much peril.  ‘You told me to just say whatever, right?’ 

“Ellie, hey.”  Erik brought their foreheads together, tucking Eleven’s bangs over his ears.  “Please don’t be nervous, you’re making me nervous.  I’ll try anything once.”  He let out a soft chuckle.  “You know that a little too well.  If you want to whip me, I’m not sure if I’d like it, but I’ll definitely give it a shot.  Hell, if you want me to watch you go to town on one of those dolls right over there, I can douse myself in butter while we’re at it.” 

Eleven giggled.  He kissed Erik’s inner wrist, just slowly enough that Erik forgot what they were talking about for a moment, before rolling his shoulder, signaling he needed to speak. 

They’d worked out a few simple signals early on, when they realized Erik’s insatiable need for physical affection often conflicted with Eleven’s ability to communicate.  As much as Eleven also craved touch, the pathetic half-awake noises went from cute to annoying real fast, as far as Erik knew. 

‘Sorry.’  He glanced down, not so much studying the whip as avoiding Erik’s gaze.  ‘It wasn’t… you I had in mind. For getting whipped.’ 

Erik’s jaw worked as he tried to process it.  He’d always known Eleven liked a little pain, but- 

‘I mean, we can try that too, of course!  If you want. Only if you want.’ He ducked his head shyly.  ‘I want you to feel good, too.’ 

Erik slid his hands around Eleven’s hips, ducking his head to catch his gaze.  “Hey, you know I’ll say something if I don’t like it, okay?” He could see the start of a protest.  “And I mean that. If I don’t specifically like it I’ll say something, promise.  I won’t just put up with something.” 

Eleven’s shoulders relaxed.  His hands covered Erik’s. A gentle touch.  I’m here.  

“So,” Erik said, “what do we need for your kink whip, then?” 

Eleven went bright red. 

Chapter Text

El wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down at the item he’d created. He picked up the newly-forged whip and ran his fingers over the leather tassels. It was simple, but that’s all it needed to be. No fancy enchantments, no flashy decorations or carvings. He gave his thigh a decent swat and felt the sting through his pant leg. Perfect.

He grabbed his shirt from where he tossed it earlier and headed upstairs to rinse off. The castle wasn’t too busy in the middle of the afternoon, so the prince walking around shirtless wouldn’t upset anyone. Some habits from traveling around and camping were too hard to break. He quickly made it back to his room, tucking the newly-made whip into a dresser drawer. He tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper and padded his way into the bathroom.

El turned the water hotter. His aching muscles needed a bit of a break after his afternoon forging session. Once the tub was filled enough to submerge, he turned off the tap and slowly lowered his frame into the steaming water. He tilted his head back over the edge of the tub and sighed, completely giving in to the feeling of warm water easing the ache of his sore muscles.

He opened his eyes to the feeling of something else digging into his sore shoulders. A flash of blue hovered above him until his eyes came into focus. There was Erik, smiling down with his hands kneading into El’s shoulders.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You looked so peaceful.” He combed his fingers through El’s still-dry hair and reached down for the water pail, filling it with warm water from the tub before tipping it over El’s head.

“Close your eyes.”

El did as he was told and let the warm water cascade down from his hair onto his shoulders. Erik reached for the bottle of shampoo and began to lather some up in his hands before threading his sudsy fingers through El’s hair.

El leaned back into Erik’s hands, humming in contentment. There were few feelings better than this one. Hands in his hair always reduced El into a purring mess. El knew Erik was taking an extra long time just for his sake, but if he kept this up much longer the water would be lukewarm and El would be asleep in the tub.

He sat up and leaned forward, signaling to Erik that it was time to rinse. Erik scooped up the bucket and dunked it back in the water to fill it. He held a hand against El’s forehead to shield his eyes as he rinsed out the soap. Once his hair was fully rinsed El leaned back with lips puckered, a silent request.

Erik quickly obliged, bending down to kiss him. El reached up and ran his wet hands through Erik’s hair, causing him to jerk back, eyes narrowed.

“Hey! That’s not very nice.”

El stifled a giggle and shooed Erik out of the bathroom.

‘I’ll be out in a minute.’

They sat cross-legged across from each other on the bed, the newly-made whip sitting between them. Erik looked down at it, then back up at El.

“So you want me to use this on you?” He picked it up and wiggled it so the tails swayed.

El looked up at him through his lashes, his face getting redder by the second. He was already imagining what Erik would look like, poised at the foot of their bed clad in his new pants and bending him over…

He met Erik’s eyes with a bashful smile. ‘Yeah. Don’t be afraid to be a little mean, we have the signals for a reason. I’ll let you know if it’s too much. And you will too?’

Erik took El’s hands in his for reassurance. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll let you know. I’m not too worried, this actually sounds like it’ll be pretty fun.” He winked, tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

The look El gave him was a poor attempt at masking his excitement with innocence.

Now it was Erik’s turn to begin blushing.


El sat at the dinner table later that evening, his mindset completely ruined. He pushed the peas around on his plate, lost in thought to the point when Erik rested his hand on El’s thigh to get his attention he nearly tossed the fork straight across the table at Rab.

Erik gave him a curious look, his hand now just two fingers walking their way up his leg.

“What’s on your mind?”

He gave Erik a warning look. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

Now that they had all of the necessary supplies to make El’s request come to life, they just had to bide their time until they had a goddess-damned free evening. They hadn’t had time alone where they weren’t exhausted for a few days now, and the rest of the week didn’t look promising either. Last night was the third night in a row they’d both fallen asleep mid-foreplay.

El rested his chin in his hand, his mind replaying their tryst in the library closet a little over a week ago, and a light blush covered his cheeks. He tried not to think about the strangled sounds Erik had made as he’d fucked him senseless against the wall...

El sat up straight at the mention of his name across the table and tried to make it look like he wasn’t actively moping about not getting laid in over a week.

‘Yes, I can supervise the supply caravan. How many days will it be?’ He cast a sad look at Erik. He didn’t want to wait longer but it looked like they were going to have to be apart for a few more days. Erik tried to muster a smile back, but it didn’t look genuine.


One week later...

El sat on the bed, trying his best to be patient. It had been a whopping two and a half weeks since they’d had the chance to fully enjoy one another, and it had been downright torturous. Three days on the road, then by the time he finally got back he was too tired and sore to do much more than order people around as the rebuilding really ramped up outside of the castle walls.

Erik had been nothing but patient with him, even surprisingly so. He’d reassured El he missed him just as much as he’d missed Erik, but that they’d get their time soon. He made sure of it. As soon as Erik heard they were headed back a few days ago, he cleared El’s schedule for that weekend. They’d been going nonstop the past two weeks and they needed some time together, alone.

El had been eternally grateful for the time, he really hoped it wouldn’t continue like this, or get worse. His attention snapped up when he heard the bathroom door open, his already shaking hands folded in his lap.

Erik finally stepped out of the bathroom, and it was a good thing El was already sitting on the edge of the bed. He would have fallen over from shock otherwise.

Erik stood before him looking a bit bashful, but he quickly masked it behind a smirk complete with his chin tilted up defiantly. His pants fit perfectly, almost like they were made just for him. The leather clung to his thighs and hugged his tight ass in such a way that El almost got up to bend him over right there. He wanted to take a bite, to run his fingers across, between...But that wasn't the game they were playing tonight.

He'd rimmed his eyes with something dark, something he saw Jade wearing around her eyes on the regular. El wondered if he’d asked her for help in learning to apply it, the lines looked clean- for now. Either way it made him even more alluring, the bright blue of his irises stood out even more against the charcoal black lines. He held the simple black whip El had forged the other week loosely in his hand, tapping it against his leg idly.

El didn't know what to focus on. Every part of this vision, this fantasy come to life held his full attention. It was already so much better than he could have ever imagined. He didn't want to give Erik the satisfaction of getting him riled up so easily, so he crossed one leg over the other. He took a deep breath and prayed he didn't notice that he was already half hard.

Erik stalked over to where El sat, dropping the whip on the floor beside him. He seemed more sure of himself now; perhaps El's reaction had renewed his confidence. If that’s what was needed to bring out the beast, El was more than happy to oblige.

Erik put his hands on El's knees and uncrossed his legs, glancing down and then back up into his eyes with a snide smile. Damn it, he knew. El shivered, this was going to be the some of the sweetest torture he'd ever endure.
Erik tilted El's chin up with two fingers, holding his gaze. El felt his breath catch, his throat bobbed with a thick swallow. He looked absolutely devious.

"Are you going to be good? Or am I going to have to use this?" Erik reached down and scooped up the whip, tickling El's cheek with the ends.

El swallowed again, this one no less noticeable. He didn't want to look too excited, but he also knew anything he showed Erik would take and run with, the tease. He gave a simple nod, urging Erik to continue.

“Get up.”

‘And what will you do if I don’t?’ El gave him a defiant sneer. One that said “I’m going to be difficult on purpose.”

He couldn’t wait any longer. El wanted to push him, to unlock that aggression he caught a glimpse of when Erik felt threatened- or when something wasn’t going quite his way. He wanted that aggression turned on him. He wanted...a lot of things right now, and the easiest way to get them was to fight back until he was pinned to the floor with Erik snarling over him.

Erik struck him on the thigh in response. It wasn’t very hard, and El still had the fabric of his pants shielding from the swat. It had barely stung, and that just wouldn’t do. He looked up at Erik, his eyebrow raised with a question.

‘Is that the best you can do? I barely felt that.’

Erik grimaced and wound up again, and this time it definitely tingled a little. He grinned up at Erik like he’d won the jackpot.

‘That’s more like it.

Erik continued to scowl. It was working. El slowly stood up, tilting his chin down so their gazes were level. He could see a spark in Erik’s eyes, and he hoped Erik could see the desire burning in his.

Erik tugged at the waistband of El’s sleep pants, pulling them back and letting go so the elastic snapped against his hips. “You’re wearing far too much. Strip for me, would you, sweetheart?”

The sweet tone of his voice didn’t match the look on his face in the slightest. El very slowly reached for the hem of his shirt until he felt the sting of the whip on his thigh again. His eyes went wide. He hadn’t even seen him wind up for that one.

“Too slow.”

El looked at him with a grin; now he was getting the hang of it. He quickly tore his shirt over his head, and pushed his pants down to his knees. That’s all the further he got before Erik grabbed his arm and shuffled him over towards the wall, making sure he didn’t trip over the pants still stuck around his calves. He pushed El up against the wall face first, holding him in place with his hand clamped on El’s right shoulder. He leaned in to growl against El’s ear, sending shivers from his ears down to his toes.

“Hands behind your back.”

El obliged, crossing his wrists over the small of his back. Before he could think of anything else, he felt a sharp sting on his now-bare ass.

Oh. That was nice.

Erik recoiled at the sound. El let out a whimper, but he hadn’t cried out.

He panicked, breaking character. "Did that hurt too much? Are you okay?"

El rolled his free shoulder back, the signal for Erik to step back so he could talk.

'I appreciate you asking, but it kinda takes away from the mood if you check up on me after you hit me. We have signals, remember? I'll let you know. Promise.' He leaned forward, pecking Erik on the lips before turning back around, nodding for him to continue.

Erik cleared his throat, and when he spoke again his voice was lower, more threatening.

“I’m gonna...uh...shit.”

El tried to hide his giggles, but it was no use. He loved Erik dearly, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade forever. As much as he wanted everyone else to think he was a bad boy, underneath he was just a big softie.

“Hey! No giggling in the sex dungeon! I'm trying to be sexy, damn it!” Erik halfheartedly swung the whip again, descending into his own fit of giggles.

El turned around and pulled him in for a reassuring kiss through the laughter.

'You are sexy. And silly.'

Erik turned him around and prodded his back, prompting him to walk towards the bed. El shuffled until his thighs bumped up against the edge. He quickly turned around and put his hands up in surrender, then reached under Erik’s arms to tickle him, a fakeout.

Erik squirmed to get away, but El’s grip under his arms was inescapable. He choked out a threat between giggles. “Nuh-uh. You’re not flipping this on me. Not this time.”

In a usual test of strength El would have had Erik beat, but with all of the extra training Erik had made up that gap and then some. He struggled until he was able to grab El’s hands, interlocking their fingers so his weapons of mass tickle destruction were neutralized.

El soon forfeit and flopped down onto the bed, legs kicking out. Erik grabbed one of his legs mid-kick and began to tickle his foot. El gasped and giggled as he tried his best to pry his foot away from Erik’s tormenting fingers, but it was no use.

“See, that’s what you get. Karma.”

After a few moments of paying the price for his actions, El had company on the bed. Erik wasted no time and straddled El, knees on either side of his hips.

“Now...where were we?” He leaned down, brushing a stray hair out of El’s face before wrenching his hand in the silky strands and crushing their lips together.

El groaned into the kiss, arching his back up a little. Erik was ignoring his very obvious and neglected boner, and he bit down on Erik’s lip to let him know just how that made him feel.

Erik growled back, tightening the grip in El’s hair, his other hand finally coming down to grab his dick and give it a few pumps before sitting back up with a huff.

“I gotta...get these things off.”

He got up to remove them, but after a few moments of awkward grunting later, he looked back over his shoulder, concerned. “Uh, El? I think we have a small problem.”

El turned around and almost doubled over in laughter. There he was in all his badass glory, struggling to get his pants any lower than mid-thigh.

‘No underwear? Bold choice’

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and help me.”

El motioned for him to sit on the edge of the bed. Erik sat and stuck his legs straight out, bracing his arms behind him to lift his hips on the signal. El grabbed a pant leg and tugged as hard as he could, but they weren’t budging. Had he glued the damn things on? El sighed and sat beside him, shaking his head.

‘You’re just going to have to leave them on,’ he said with a smirk. They could make this work. Maybe the sweat would help with the removal later. And it was an excuse for another bath.

Erik pushed him back down onto the bed, pulling El’s sleep pants the rest of the way off with one swift tug. He tossed them somewhere behind him, a forgotten heap along with El’s shirt. He hovered over him, eyeing up his prize.

“Oh we’ll make it work alright.”

He leaned down to give El a quick kiss before he shuffled over to the nightstand to grab the lube jar, dipping two fingers in before setting it aside.

El tried not to squirm too much while he waited, but Erik was taking way too long. He restrained himself to a huff, catching Erik’s attention.

“Impatient, are we?”

Goddess-damned right he was. They’d waited two long weeks for this, El going to bed every night since making the whip knowing it was in there but not being able to use it. Going to bed every night wanting to reach out and run his hands all over Erik’s body but being too tired to do much else.

He maintained his pout as Erik got situated between his legs, pulling a gentle laugh from his partner.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” The hand not slicked reached up to caress El’s cheek. As much as he appreciated the softness Erik was showing, he really just wanted to be fucked. Like, thoroughly fucked until he couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Less cute, more demanding, please.’

El stuck his tongue out when Erik’s expression darkened, taking the bait. He gave him a nod in confirmation, it was well past time to get on with it. Erik kissed him as he gently pressed in a single finger. El let his head fall back on the mattress, gladly welcoming the familiar intrusion. He bit down on Erik’s lip as they kissed, urging him on.

Erik grunted and kissed him harder in response, his hand speeding up a bit to match. He pressed his second finger lightly against the rim, a question. El nodded again, and Erik slowly added it to the first.

El bucked his hips up a little at the addition, his body begging Erik to go deeper. Erik’s other hand tightened in El’s hair as he hooked his fingers up, fingertips brushing the sweet spot.

An audible gasp left El’s mouth at the jolt of pleasure that ran through him. He reached up to scratch his nails down Erik’s back, leaving angry red marks that would fade by the morning. Now that they were both properly riled up, El leaned back and gave Erik a devilish smirk.

‘More. Please. I need you.’ The words were jerky, growing increasingly desperate as Erik added another final finger with care. El relaxed, sighing into the stretch as his hands clasped back behind Erik’s neck. It was good, but not enough to satisfy knowing what was still to come.

Once El was ready, he signalled by pushing both hands against Erik’s chest. He sat back, and El got up to position himself facing away on all fours. He gave the sweetest smile over his shoulder, and Erik laughed. He gave El’s ass a squeeze before moving to grab the lube jar.

“Oh, okay. I see what we’re doing here.”

Erik settled behind El and lubed himself up, taking a little longer than he needed to. He grabbed the whip from where he tossed it across the bed and gave El’s ass a healthy smack before getting himself lined up, watching him jump a little with a smirk. El shifted back impatiently, feeling the press of Erik’s dick on his ass.

Erik leaned back enough on his calves so they were no longer touching, save for the firm grip he still held on El’s hip. He tapped a finger against his skin in scolding. “Ah, ah. Not yet.”

El huffed loud enough to shake the bed frame. He would have turned around to make a joke, maybe even pout until he got his way, but he wasn’t moving until Erik was buried inside him. His lack of response to Erik’s teasing should have been enough of an indicator that he was beginning to get bratty.

Erik grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled hard, leaving El gasping as he slowly slid himself in. Even he had his limits for teasing, it seemed. There was a collective sigh as they both adjusted, Erik pushing in agonizingly slow. How he had the self control for this, El would never know.

El’s nerves were alight with the feeling of fulfillment, but it still wasn’t enough. Once they were both settled he rocked his hips back a bit, wordlessly asking Erik to move.

He did, and El’s eyes threatened to roll back into his head. The feeling of the hand in his hair pulling at the same time as Erik’s thrust short circuited his brain. He knew they should be taking their time, savoring everything after having to wait for so damned long, but El was being greedy. He hastily reached up and tapped the hand Erik still had gripped in his hair, his signal for ‘harder’.

Erik let out a breath and readjusted before doing just that. His nails dug into El’s hip and hair simultaneously, adding to the pleasure-pain sensation that caused El to begin to make noise. He bit back a rather loud moan, causing Erik to tug at his hair a little harder. El knew that he loved to hear him, so he didn’t stifle the next one. Besides, if he bit into his bottom lip any harder, he’d be drawing blood.

Each thrust was another nail in El’s proverbial horny coffin. If his death came just after he did, he’d be okay with that.

Erik pulled out for a moment and released El’s hair. The loss of both the fulfillment and tension caused him to whine in protest. He turned his head to look back at Erik with a pout. He was in full-on brat mode.

“Don’t give me that. Turn over. On your back.”

El stuck out his lower lip even further, eyes wide and pleading.

Erik picked up the whip again, brandishing it with a stern look. “On your back. Now. I won’t ask again.”

With a labored sigh El turned over onto his back, still pouting. Erik leaned down to kiss the sour look right off his face, slipping him a little tongue in the process. He sat back up and settled himself between El’s legs, and before El could blink he was once again being fucked.

Erik leaned down to kiss him between thrusts, interrupting his rhythm a bit. “I wanted to see your face. Is that such a crime?”

El wanted to say it was. That he’d throw him into the darkest part of the dungeons, chain him to the wall, and fuck him until they were both exhuasted. He added that to the mental list of potential things to discuss later. He reached up to run a hand through Erik’s hair before pulling on it a bit with a smirk. He released his grip to speak.

‘Harder. Now.’

“Hah, demanding! I’ll just have to put you in your place.”

Erik pinned El’s wrists down as he picked up the pace. He leaned down to nip at El’s neck as he did, causing him to squirm underneath his grasp.

El’s heart felt like it could beat right out of his chest. Losing control and being held captive while Erik did as he pleased was exhilarating, and El quickly decided he wanted more. A moan broke his silence, Erik wasn’t letting up and he was quickly giving into the mounting feeling in his gut.

One of Erik’s hands moved from restraining El’s wrist to fist back into his hair, earning more breathless whines. Each thrust set El’s nerves alight as Erik reached back and shoved a pillow under El’s hips, the new angle pushing him that much closer to ruin.

Erik leaned down to growl in his ear, his possessive side now on full display. “You like it when I fuck you hard, don’t you?”

He did, and he hoped that Erik never got tired of indulging him in it. He was simultaneously overcome with how much he loved his boyfriend along with how amazing it felt as he now fucked him completely senseless.

El’s groans caught in his throat as he wrenched his eyes shut, his body going rigid as he came across his stomach.

The sight of El getting off was just enough to push Erik over a few moments later. As he began to relax he loosened his grip on El’s hair, moving his hand down to caress his face. He leaned down to kiss his brow, El’s eyes still a bit unfocused as he slowly came down from his high.

“You’re so beautiful.”

El gave him a goofy grin in return, reaching up to hug Erik to his chest. He ran his hands through his hair, eyes slowly widening when he realized Erik was still half-trapped in his pants. El started to giggle, trying his best to slip his hand between the leather and Erik’s skin and failing. They really were stuck fast.

Erik rolled off him with a groan. “Yeah...I’m still stuck. As nice as they are, I’m afraid these pants aren’t gonna live to see another sexcapade, El.”

El frowned. He did really like the pants, but maybe Gemma had done too good of a job with fitting them. He knew this story would have her rolling on the floor, and she’d probably have the next pair ready in no time as thanks for sharing his increasingly hilarious bedroom stories. Last time she told him he should start writing a book, maybe she was onto something.

‘Could you go get me a wash rag?’ El lifted his head from where he still lay, messy and disheveled.

“Here, I’ll do you one better.” Erik carefully stood up, pants still hugging around his mid thigh. He looked down with a grimace and shot El a look when he started giggling. He scooped El up in his arms and slowly shuffled his way to the bathroom, setting him down in the tub.

El smiled up at him sweetly. ‘Thank you.’

Erik kissed his forehead before turning to leave. “Anything for you. And don’t stare at my ass.”

El stifled a laugh and did indeed stare despite the glare he got when Erik turned to look before leaving the room.

‘Sorry, I can’t help it.’


When El exited the bathroom fifteen minutes later clad in only a towel he spotted Erik seated in the middle of the bed, dressed in his usual sleep clothes. He held up the remains of the leather pants with an apologetic look. They were cut to ribbons, but at least Erik was free.

“I’m sorry, but these are toast.”

El sat beside him and took the shreds, inspecting them closer. He looked at Erik with a cheeky smile.

‘I might be able to fashion this into something else…’

Erik raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

‘You’ll just have to wait and see.’ He shifted so his head was in Erik’s lap. ‘So what’s next on the list?’