[Requiem of Janus] Marked
May. 26th, 2010 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsonTitle: Marked
Universe: The Requiem of Janus, canon
Characters: AlcaeusxJanus
Rating: M/NC-17
Warnings: smut
Desc: It almost felt like being claimed, being marked, even though Janus knew Alcaeus would never speak of such a thing.
Strong hands dragged through black hair, stroking over Janus’ scalp before fingers tangled in the long length, gripping. Janus gasped as his head was jerked back, throat bared, all in tune to the body driving into his, cock pushing so deep it felt like it was trying to tunnel out through the other side. He shuddered, the thick musk of sex filling the room, stronger than any incense.
Alcaeus’ other hand was on his hip, fingers splayed and bruising, hold tight enough to leave marks later that Janus would trace with his fingertips when no one was looking. It almost felt like being claimed, being marked, even though Janus knew Alcaeus would never speak such a thing.
Janus’ tongue dragged over his lips as he sucked in a gasping breath, need twisting through his belly like a hot knife. His fingers clenched on the bedsheets, twisting the fine silk mercilessly as he pushed his body backwards, driving Alcaeus deeper inside of him. He could feel Alcaeus’ cock, throbbing and throbbing, rubbing all the places inside of Janus that made his skin tingle and heat.
The guard’s name danced on the tip of Janus’ tongue, buzzed along his lips. But rather than speak it, rather than moan or whimper ‘Alcaeus,’ Janus clamped his mouth shut and let the cry of desire rumble in his chest. Calling his lover’s name implied intimacy, implied a shared want, neither of which Janus actually held.
The fingers in his hair tightened as Alcaeus leaned over him, breath a hot pant against the back of Janus’ right shoulder. Teeth grazed Janus’ pale flesh, no doubt leaving raised, red marks in their wake. Janus shuddered, pleasure sparking white-hot down his spine, sizzling like a spark of lightning. The air was filled with the scent of sex, a thick musk that invaded Janus’ senses and combined with Alcaeus’ natural scent. Intoxicating. Dizzying.
Janus’ nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the feel and scent and taste of Alcaeus wrapped around him. Pushing deeper and deeper, fingers clenching on Janus’ hip. The slap-slap of flesh joined the sound of the bed creaking and Janus’ gasps and Alcaeus, all but soundless save for the occasional indrawn breath and muttered curse.
Eyes closed, Janus gave himself up to the pleasure. He chased away any invading thoughts of magick and the pain it caused. Of political intrigue and assassinations and treacherous selas lingering around every corner. Of desires that could never be fully quenched because Alcaeus could never be fully his. Janus buried it all, focusing only on the feel of Alcaeus thrusting into him, the curl of Alcaeus’ sweet heat around him, the feel of those strong fingers in his hair.
A tongue lapped at the back of his shoulder and Alcaeus’ hand left Janus’ hip, shifting until Alcaeus could wrap fingers around Janus’ neglected cock. The priest nearly cried out in relief at the first skilled touch and his hips fell out of rhythm. Pushing back into Alcaeus’ thrusts, rocking forward into Alcaeus’ fingers. Need and want intertwined until Janus couldn’t tell one from the other, peppering down his spine in bursts of more, harder, deeper.
Janus dragged his lower lip into his mouth, clenched it between his teeth, and surrendered. Alcaeus’ fingers worked Janus’ cock mercilessly, a slick grip that seemed to pull Janus’ release out of him. He shuddered, the warmth starting in his belly, coiling and coiling until it exploded, radiating to all of his extremities. Janus gasped, clamping down, covering Alcaeus’ fingers in his release.
It was sheer bliss, and for one startling second, one long moment where wave after wave of pleasure spilled over him, Janus escaped. He wasn’t the high priest, or Deham’s prodigy, or Sybaris’ chosen. He was just a man who needed to be touched like any other. A man who could give himself up to desire and cling to it, treat it like something precious. A mere mortal who curled towards the warmth that Alcaeus had to offer and bathed in that normality.
He felt Alcaeus’ teeth clamp down on his shoulder, digging in, deeper and deeper, almost to the point of pain. Alcaeus’ sharp pants burst across Janus’ skin as his grip on Janus’ hips tightened and he thrust forward sharply, driving a cry from Janus. His back arched and Alcaeus groaned, fingers flexing, as he spilled himself inside of Janus. Marking Janus yet again, marking him thoroughly, until sometimes Janus thought he could feel Alcaeus inside himself always.
Those were thoughts most dangerous.
Janus collapsed, arms unwilling to hold his weight, in a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs and hair and sheets. He felt tired, stretched thin, but languorous, sated in a way no food or drink could match.
Alcaeus’ fingers loosed themselves from around Janus as the guard shifted his weight to the side, hand lingering on Janus’ hip in an uncharacteristic fashion. Janus enjoyed the sensation, the weight of Alcaeus’ hand against his skin, before Alcaeus seemed to realize what he was doing and abruptly snatched it away as though burned. After all, such a touch would imply too much intimacy, too much belonging, and that was not why either of them were here.
Sweat made Janus’ hair cling stickily to his skin. He shifted, feeling the slickness between his thighs. A bath was in order, but Janus didn’t want to move. Not when his body felt so indolent, buzzing with the aftermath of his release. And not when he could feel the force of Alcaeus’ stare, watching Janus but saying nothing.
How would it feel, Janus found himself wondering at times, to roll over and against Alcaeus as though they were actually lovers. These traitorous ponderings occasionally entered Janus’ mind. The thought of sleeping next to Alcaeus, curled with the guard’s larger warmth. Hearing Alcaeus breathe through the night, comfortable and content. An indulgence Janus had never allowed himself and one Alcaeus wouldn’t give. It wasn’t part of the bargain after all.
Janus could trade for lust and sex and pleasure. But he could do nothing to sway Alcaeus’ heart. And in the beginning, Janus hadn’t wanted it. He’d only wanted Alcaeus’ body, that indeterminable something that his magick seemed fixated on.
How was Janus supposed to know that there were traitorous portions of himself yearning for more? They were buried deeply, to be fair, and Janus ruthlessly shoved them into the pits of his conscious every chance he had. But there times, times such as these, when those desperate, hungry desires rose to the surface again. Knocking at his heart and clawing at the back of his throat.
The mattress shifted, Alcaeus making motions to rise.
“Where are you going?”
Alcaeus paused. “To get a towel.”
Janus closed his eyes, refusing to allow anything to show on his face. “No need,” he said, curling on his side and drawing a sheet over his naked body, already growing chilled in the wake of their cooled passion. “I’ll bathe in the morning. You, however, are free to use the baths as you wish.”
He felt the weight of Alcaeus’ stare, itching between his shoulderblades. It was highly unusual for Janus to allow himself to remain a sticky mess. But there were feelings there, things Janus wasn’t going to express aloud. Strange desires like wanting to feel marked just a little longer.
Alcaeus said nothing more, and it wasn’t long before the mattress shifted and Alcaeus was gone, padding quietly into the adjoining bathing room. Leaving Janus to linger in the dark quiet, the air settling humid over his bare, sweat-sticky upper body.
In the lonely darkness, Janus shifted, freeing his arm. His hand traveled upward, touching his bare chest, over his bare collarbone, until fingers pressed against his shoulder. Finding the impressions of Alcaeus’ teeth, little indentations in Janus’ flesh. Sure to be gone by morning.
He dragged the pads of his fingers over each one of them, mapping their contours, memorizing their shape. Luxuriating in the feel of them. His skin felt warm there, and no doubt would look flushed red in proper lightning. Janus didn’t mind. He stroked the teeth markings again and allowed himself to think, for just one, indulgent moment, that he had been claimed.
Sometimes lies were just as hopeful as the truth.
* * * *
Well, hope you enjoyed! I have more on the way. A piece from Deham's POV and then a longer oneshot that's actually an entire chapter that had to be cut from the final manuscript.
Only fourteen more days until the publication date!
Universe: The Requiem of Janus, canon
Characters: AlcaeusxJanus
Rating: M/NC-17
Warnings: smut
Desc: It almost felt like being claimed, being marked, even though Janus knew Alcaeus would never speak of such a thing.
Strong hands dragged through black hair, stroking over Janus’ scalp before fingers tangled in the long length, gripping. Janus gasped as his head was jerked back, throat bared, all in tune to the body driving into his, cock pushing so deep it felt like it was trying to tunnel out through the other side. He shuddered, the thick musk of sex filling the room, stronger than any incense.
Alcaeus’ other hand was on his hip, fingers splayed and bruising, hold tight enough to leave marks later that Janus would trace with his fingertips when no one was looking. It almost felt like being claimed, being marked, even though Janus knew Alcaeus would never speak such a thing.
Janus’ tongue dragged over his lips as he sucked in a gasping breath, need twisting through his belly like a hot knife. His fingers clenched on the bedsheets, twisting the fine silk mercilessly as he pushed his body backwards, driving Alcaeus deeper inside of him. He could feel Alcaeus’ cock, throbbing and throbbing, rubbing all the places inside of Janus that made his skin tingle and heat.
The guard’s name danced on the tip of Janus’ tongue, buzzed along his lips. But rather than speak it, rather than moan or whimper ‘Alcaeus,’ Janus clamped his mouth shut and let the cry of desire rumble in his chest. Calling his lover’s name implied intimacy, implied a shared want, neither of which Janus actually held.
The fingers in his hair tightened as Alcaeus leaned over him, breath a hot pant against the back of Janus’ right shoulder. Teeth grazed Janus’ pale flesh, no doubt leaving raised, red marks in their wake. Janus shuddered, pleasure sparking white-hot down his spine, sizzling like a spark of lightning. The air was filled with the scent of sex, a thick musk that invaded Janus’ senses and combined with Alcaeus’ natural scent. Intoxicating. Dizzying.
Janus’ nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the feel and scent and taste of Alcaeus wrapped around him. Pushing deeper and deeper, fingers clenching on Janus’ hip. The slap-slap of flesh joined the sound of the bed creaking and Janus’ gasps and Alcaeus, all but soundless save for the occasional indrawn breath and muttered curse.
Eyes closed, Janus gave himself up to the pleasure. He chased away any invading thoughts of magick and the pain it caused. Of political intrigue and assassinations and treacherous selas lingering around every corner. Of desires that could never be fully quenched because Alcaeus could never be fully his. Janus buried it all, focusing only on the feel of Alcaeus thrusting into him, the curl of Alcaeus’ sweet heat around him, the feel of those strong fingers in his hair.
A tongue lapped at the back of his shoulder and Alcaeus’ hand left Janus’ hip, shifting until Alcaeus could wrap fingers around Janus’ neglected cock. The priest nearly cried out in relief at the first skilled touch and his hips fell out of rhythm. Pushing back into Alcaeus’ thrusts, rocking forward into Alcaeus’ fingers. Need and want intertwined until Janus couldn’t tell one from the other, peppering down his spine in bursts of more, harder, deeper.
Janus dragged his lower lip into his mouth, clenched it between his teeth, and surrendered. Alcaeus’ fingers worked Janus’ cock mercilessly, a slick grip that seemed to pull Janus’ release out of him. He shuddered, the warmth starting in his belly, coiling and coiling until it exploded, radiating to all of his extremities. Janus gasped, clamping down, covering Alcaeus’ fingers in his release.
It was sheer bliss, and for one startling second, one long moment where wave after wave of pleasure spilled over him, Janus escaped. He wasn’t the high priest, or Deham’s prodigy, or Sybaris’ chosen. He was just a man who needed to be touched like any other. A man who could give himself up to desire and cling to it, treat it like something precious. A mere mortal who curled towards the warmth that Alcaeus had to offer and bathed in that normality.
He felt Alcaeus’ teeth clamp down on his shoulder, digging in, deeper and deeper, almost to the point of pain. Alcaeus’ sharp pants burst across Janus’ skin as his grip on Janus’ hips tightened and he thrust forward sharply, driving a cry from Janus. His back arched and Alcaeus groaned, fingers flexing, as he spilled himself inside of Janus. Marking Janus yet again, marking him thoroughly, until sometimes Janus thought he could feel Alcaeus inside himself always.
Those were thoughts most dangerous.
Janus collapsed, arms unwilling to hold his weight, in a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs and hair and sheets. He felt tired, stretched thin, but languorous, sated in a way no food or drink could match.
Alcaeus’ fingers loosed themselves from around Janus as the guard shifted his weight to the side, hand lingering on Janus’ hip in an uncharacteristic fashion. Janus enjoyed the sensation, the weight of Alcaeus’ hand against his skin, before Alcaeus seemed to realize what he was doing and abruptly snatched it away as though burned. After all, such a touch would imply too much intimacy, too much belonging, and that was not why either of them were here.
Sweat made Janus’ hair cling stickily to his skin. He shifted, feeling the slickness between his thighs. A bath was in order, but Janus didn’t want to move. Not when his body felt so indolent, buzzing with the aftermath of his release. And not when he could feel the force of Alcaeus’ stare, watching Janus but saying nothing.
How would it feel, Janus found himself wondering at times, to roll over and against Alcaeus as though they were actually lovers. These traitorous ponderings occasionally entered Janus’ mind. The thought of sleeping next to Alcaeus, curled with the guard’s larger warmth. Hearing Alcaeus breathe through the night, comfortable and content. An indulgence Janus had never allowed himself and one Alcaeus wouldn’t give. It wasn’t part of the bargain after all.
Janus could trade for lust and sex and pleasure. But he could do nothing to sway Alcaeus’ heart. And in the beginning, Janus hadn’t wanted it. He’d only wanted Alcaeus’ body, that indeterminable something that his magick seemed fixated on.
How was Janus supposed to know that there were traitorous portions of himself yearning for more? They were buried deeply, to be fair, and Janus ruthlessly shoved them into the pits of his conscious every chance he had. But there times, times such as these, when those desperate, hungry desires rose to the surface again. Knocking at his heart and clawing at the back of his throat.
The mattress shifted, Alcaeus making motions to rise.
“Where are you going?”
Alcaeus paused. “To get a towel.”
Janus closed his eyes, refusing to allow anything to show on his face. “No need,” he said, curling on his side and drawing a sheet over his naked body, already growing chilled in the wake of their cooled passion. “I’ll bathe in the morning. You, however, are free to use the baths as you wish.”
He felt the weight of Alcaeus’ stare, itching between his shoulderblades. It was highly unusual for Janus to allow himself to remain a sticky mess. But there were feelings there, things Janus wasn’t going to express aloud. Strange desires like wanting to feel marked just a little longer.
Alcaeus said nothing more, and it wasn’t long before the mattress shifted and Alcaeus was gone, padding quietly into the adjoining bathing room. Leaving Janus to linger in the dark quiet, the air settling humid over his bare, sweat-sticky upper body.
In the lonely darkness, Janus shifted, freeing his arm. His hand traveled upward, touching his bare chest, over his bare collarbone, until fingers pressed against his shoulder. Finding the impressions of Alcaeus’ teeth, little indentations in Janus’ flesh. Sure to be gone by morning.
He dragged the pads of his fingers over each one of them, mapping their contours, memorizing their shape. Luxuriating in the feel of them. His skin felt warm there, and no doubt would look flushed red in proper lightning. Janus didn’t mind. He stroked the teeth markings again and allowed himself to think, for just one, indulgent moment, that he had been claimed.
Sometimes lies were just as hopeful as the truth.
* * * *
Well, hope you enjoyed! I have more on the way. A piece from Deham's POV and then a longer oneshot that's actually an entire chapter that had to be cut from the final manuscript.
Only fourteen more days until the publication date!
