#Elidibus x WoL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladyramora · 3 months

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In the shadow of your heart

[Part Two]

Written for @/natus_Vincer

Natus belongs to @natus-vincer

↓↓↓ Spoilers for Stormblood & Shadowbringers under the cut↓↓↓

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Characters: Natus Vincer/Elidibus

Additional tags & NSFW Warnings:

Named Warrior of Light, Angst and Feels, Enemies and Lovers, Established Relationship, Explicit Sex, Blood and Violence, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Foot Jobs, Face Fucking, Boot Licking, Humping, Size Difference, Natus is compared to a dog a lot, Au Ra horns used as handlebars, Come Eating, Snark, Did I Mention Angst?

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Natus sat in his room, the hum of primordial light no longer vibrating in his horns now that he had brought back the night to the people of Lakeland. The hour was late, the night sky an endless expanse of black lit up with twinkling stars. The moon shone with a cool, calm glow that spilled in through his open window of his room in The Pendants.

He stares blankly at his own hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers while mulling over the events of Holminster Switch. All the people he could not save compared to the ones who had survived. The road had been littered with bodies.

Natus felt strange, too. His skin felt too tight, his body strangely hot. A restless energy vibrated through him, preventing his tired mind and body from achieving rest no matter how long he had laid on the bed provided for him.

Sleep eluded him.

That was fine. Natus knew well enough what he would dream of, or rather who. Images his brain would conjure up in the yearning to see an enemy most beloved.

One who had not visited him as a lover since last they had met on that starless night in the Ghymlyt Dark.

The wind picks up, a breeze drifting into his room that carries the scent of flowers to his nose, and along with it a familiar presence.

Natus' breath freezes in his lungs as he turns his head, his heart jumping in his throat with painful hope.

The moonlight of the First was no different than that of the Source as it spilled over the silent figure of the white-robed ascian that stood in front of his open window.

Natus was ready to believe he had fallen asleep where he sat, the exhaustion finally catching up with him.

Elidibus standing in his room, here on the First, was obviously a figment of his overtired brain. Conjured up by thoughts of him combined with hopeless yearning.

He was bright in the gloom of darkness that was Natus' inn room. Pale and perfect, he was like the ethereal moon in a dark, starless sky. A beautiful and terrible apparition of his own longing come to haunt him.

His face was cast in the shadow of his cowl, his expression hidden in the gloom, yet Natus could not help but think that the red mask he wore had changed. Less of a faintly amused, mocking expression and more one that spoke of a cold, seething rage.

Natus does not dare to blink, let alone breathe too loudly, lest his doing so break the illusion of Elidibus visiting him again after so long.

The scar that Elidibus had gifted him when last they met faintly ached, as if resonating with his presence.

"I am loath to admit that even I, the Emissary, have been kept in the dark as to what plans Emet Selch has made," Elidibus speaks to the air more to him, low and faintly raspy. A tired quality to the sound of his voice that spoke of millennia stretching out endlessly, a long lived life that Natus could not possibly comprehend.

Had he come to kill him? Natus wondered. Would he still be alive now, if not for Estinien's timely arrival? Would Elidibus have truly struck him down, put an end to it once and for all?

"I did not think you would seek me out again," Natus finds himself saying, his voice croaking with the dryness of his throat. He glances down at his hands for a second, a mere blink, and suddenly Elidibus is by his side.

Before he can move or react, his jaw is caught. The cold bite of claws dig cruelly into his skin, but Natus leans into the familiar warmth of his body.

He does not flinch even as Elidibus wrenches his head up, those eyes glowing a fierce, icy aquamarine behind the unforgiving leer of that blood red mask.

"Say what you mean," Elidibus utters in that frightfully blank voice.

Natus swallows. "...Would you have done it?"

Elidibus squeezes his face hard, his claws pricking into Natus' skin and letting blood. Natus can only smile through the pain because Elidibus was here. Elidibus was touching him of his own volition.

Even after everything that had happened at the Ghymlyt Dark, Natus was glad to see him.

"I had every intention of doing my duty," the Emissary almost hisses out the words on a sigh of breath.

Natus closes his eyes. His throat was bare beneath Elidibus' hand, he was weaponless. Vulnerable.

"You didn't then, you have yet to do so now."

Those claws scratch down his scales and skin as Elidibus wraps his hand around his neck instead. Natus struggles to swallow, to breathe as Elidibus tightens his grip.

A hand so small, with an appearance so delicate, but possessed of such great strength that it stole his breath so easily.

Or perhaps it was his mere presence that did so.

"You are right, I could do so this very moment. Thwart the very plans that Emet Selch has no doubt made without me. I could put an end to you, misbegotten hero. One who has become death to my kin."

Natus makes no move to escape or defend himself. His hands rise from his lap only to grasp at Elidibus' robe, fabric wrinkling and bunching in his fists. Holding fast in the hopes that Elidibus will stay even now. After everything.

"You are a fool," Elidibus tells him in a low murmur as Natus gazes helplessly into his face, his feelings unchanged even as the ascian threatens his life.

Natus lets out a precious breath of his dwindling air as Elidibus lowers his face to his, the sharp points of his mask digging into him painfully as the ascian crushes his mouth against his.

Natus surges into him despite the pain, clutching at him greedily as he wraps his muscular arms around the ascian's small, slim waist.

Elidibus hisses out an irritated breath as he finds himself dragged into Natus' lap, his mask knocked askew, nearly falling from its position on his face as Natus kisses him like he'll never get the chance again.

Elidibus presses his teeth together in refusal to let Natus deepen their kiss, before sinking his teeth into the hero's lip like he meant to make him bleed.

Natus grunts with displeasure as his head is yanked to the side, their kiss broken by Elidibus snatching him by the horn and pulling hard.

"I hate that," Natus huffs, catching his breath with greedy gulps of air.

"Do you really think I aim to please you?" Elidibus grits out, grasping tight at Natus' wrists as those hands wander below the ascian's waist in amorous habit. "I did not come here for this."

Natus grins with red dripping down his chin from his bloody lip and cuts stinging from his cheeks to his collar where Elidibus' claws had sliced at him. He grasps palmfuls of Elidibus' cute little bottom through the layers of his robes and squeezes as he bucks his hips up.

"What did you come for, if not for this? For me?"

The expression on Elidibus' face finally changes, his lips pressing thin. He gives him no answer. But nor does he move to get up or use magic to escape from Natus' clingy embrace.

Emboldened, Natus tugs his hand free to pull back the ascian's hood, his silver hair spilling free from the confines of the white fabric. He reaches next for Elidibus' mask, wanting to see his face.

Elidibus slaps his hand away with a stinging swat of his clawed glove, denying him that.

Yet in the very next moment, he reaches out to rip Natus' shirt open.

Natus sucks in a breath as the swipe of those claws make him bleed, but he is all too gentle as he gathers Elidibus' hair in his hand. Winding his fingers through it as he lifts his head to press his lips to his enemy's unyielding mouth.

He is undeterred by this familiar game of stubborn refusal, only smiling fondly as he kisses the ascian's lips until Elidibus begrudgingly softens towards him. Convinced to part his lips to the hungry, persistent flick of Natus' tongue over his pretty pink lips.

Natus moans his approval, his hands sinking into Elidibus' silky hair to cradle the back of his head as he tilts his head to avoid bumping into that crimson mask.

He savors the taste of Elidibus' kiss, a craving he had not sated in some time.

Talking never got them anywhere, no matter how Natus tried to reach the man or find common ground, Elidibus held his duties as Emissary above all else.

In this way, though, they communicated quite well. Sharing heated breaths as their lips parted for only seconds at a time before they sank into one another again.

Natus pours all his feelings into these kisses, all the questions he did not dare give voice to. Cupping Elidibus' elegant jaw in his large hand, Natus is gentle, reverent as he sweeps his thumb over the ascian's skin. Marveling as he always did at how cool Elidibus' skin felt in comparison to warmth that Natus gave off.

Elidibus gives something like a rumbling growl in his throat. Seeming displeased by this gentle affection as he grabs a rough fistful of Natus' hair and yanks his head back again.

"Nng," Natus groans, desire stirring in his loins as Elidibus bit at his mouth, his jaw, his throat. Rutting against him with jerky motions of his hips as he ravaged him with brutal bites and bruising hickeys.

"Let me—" Natus starts to say, to suggest they undress and perhaps move this to the bed instead of doing so at the table.

"No," Elidibus cuts him off. "I have indulged you far too much, for too long."

Natus gives a guttural, barking laugh at that. Indulged him? Hah! Elidibus eluded him at every turn. Kept him at arm's length no matter the strides the xaela made to close the distance between them. Slapped his hands away whenever Natus reached for him. Perhaps Elidibus enjoyed being chased?

Natus could never hold onto Elidibus for long, he always slipped through his fingers. Cold and distant as the moon.

He half expected he would leave him yet again, unfulfilled and with so many unanswered questions when Elidibus rises from his lap.

Natus is not expecting him to climb from his lap and step up onto the table. He blinks, turning in his stool to face the table, and finding himself promptly bracketed by the Ascian's thighs. That white, immaculate robe spread open and his dark trousers already pushed down his thighs.

Impatient, was he?

He was already hard. His prick bobbing under the weight of Natus' hungry stare, a pretty pink flush coloring his pale skin that only deepened the longer that Natus looked at him without doing anything.

"Do not touch me with those hands stained with the blood of my brothers and sisters," Elidibus warns him in a brittle voice, before Natus can reach out and wrap his hand around him.

Natus pauses, looking into that cold, unfeeling mask.

Elidibus' lips—bitten red and bruised from his kisses—were pursed thin.

Heh, so that was how he wanted it?

Fine.

If Elidibus wanted his mouth, Natus would give him that. He was perfectly fine with being used so long as Elidibus stayed by his side. So, with such thoughts in mind, Natus crosses his hands behind his back with a smile and leans forward into his lap.

Natus moved slowly, taking his time as he made contact with the tip of his nose first, breathing in deep the unique scent that could only belong to Elidibus. A flowery, earthy scent that Natus recognized emanating from his hair and skin, combined with a darker and dusty sort of gunpowder smell that lingered on his robes of which Natus could not quite place at this point in time. A smell the xaela would later recognize as moondust.

He trails his nose over the pretty cock bobbing in front of his face, his neck flexing up and down and head tilting from side to side to side as he nosed along the velvety skin, allowing the weight of it to rest on his cheek as he nuzzles into him and breathes in gulping, heady breaths. The musky, salty scent of him here had Natus swallowing frequently as his mouth watered with the greedy desire to taste him.

His need was obvious to Elidibus, there was no doubt about that. It would be humorous, surely, if not for the twisted history between them.

Here was Natus, the bringer of light, the very savior of Eorzea that had laid low eikons, gods, and ascian alike; and yet he was rendered a panting, drooling mutt so ready to be used by the very Emissary that would be his greatest enemy.

And yet Elidibus was not above taking advantage of it. More than that, he actively participated in it. Elidibus wanted this—wanted Natus—enough to return to him again even as their relationship was further perverted by bloodshed on both sides and the accompanying twisted emotions that came along with it.

It was obvious to both of them that they never should have blurred the line of enemy and lover, that their relationship had been doomed from the very start; but it was far too late now. Destruction surely awaited them, yet even knowing that, neither of them could stop, or stay away from another.

They would walk this path, hand in hand, to their inevitable end.

Even knowing that, Natus wanted to draw it out as long as he could. These moments between them. Who knew how many they had left?

He would savor every one like it was the last, because it could very well be.

Elidibus gave no voice to his demands, as to do so would be to admit his own need. Yet his actions spoke louder than words as he tugged Natus' horns like handles, and pushed his hips up to press the tip of his prick to Natus' lips, smearing a lewd line of precum over the xaela's mouth. Deliciously filthy.

Despite the many millennia he had lived—and all the careful plans he had made in that time—with Natus, Elidibus could be quite impatient.

Natus fights a grin as he drags his tongue over his lips, savoring the salty musk of Elidibus' intimate flavor and just so incidentally grazing the needy cock so near to his mouth with his tongue.

He could feel Elidibus shudder, hear the vibration of the soft breath of pleasure he let out as it thrums seductively through his horns.

Natus lets his tongue hang from his mouth with a hot, moist exhale. Allowing the puff of his own panting breath to drive the ascian all the more wild with desire for a few torturous breaths longer before he leaned in to drag his tongue along the head of Elidibus' cock.

He laps at him with the full length of his tongue, though his technique could hardly be described as such. Rather, he licked at Elidibus in a crude, messy manner. Much like a mutt seeking to show overzealous affection to its master, he was a sloppy, drooling mess. More hungry for the taste of Elidibus than showing any finesse.

Still, it seemed to do it for his masked lover, judging by the way Elidibus gave small, barely restrained jolts of reaction.

Natus could not see his eyes, but he could see the tick of his jaw as the ascian ground his teeth. Recognize the soft hiss of his breath as something felt particularly good.

Natus' tongue was too eager in response, too quick. The taste of Elidibus could not linger in his mouth for long enough. Every beading pearl of precum was soon spread over his drooling tongue, dissipating far too soon to savor it.

Elidibus' scent did not linger long enough in his nose with every gulping, greedy breath that Natus took. He wanted to sear this into his memory, imprint it upon his soul. The scent of him, the taste of him, every sound he made.

Every moment, every intimacy that was so terribly fleeting; Natus did not want to forget a single second of it.

Even the lower half of Elidibus’ face, twisted up and unhappy as it was… Natus knew that he would want to remember it. The line of the emissary’s jaw, the down turned corners of his mouth. The underside of his nose, just a sliver to be seen from where Natus was looking up at him.

This less than tender grip upon his horns, accompanied by the occasional scrape of his claw over the pattern of ridges and dips that made Natus shudder bodily in a way that was less than pleasant. It was like scraping bone, and made Natus experience a sensation of intense discomfort.

Elidibus would know this by now, such an action from him was surely intentional.

Yet Natus grins and bears it all, swallowing down that sensation of revulsion and hyper focusing on his desire for Elidibus. Licking, licking, licking at him with unbearable patience. Teasing the both of them by taking his time to simply savor the moment.

Aught that plainly irks his enemy and lover. Elidibus tightens his grip and yanks at the hero's horns, pulling him in roughly. Forcing the xaela forward into his lap, his cockhead pushing insistently at his lips and cheek. The pointed tip of Natus' horns drag across the bare, vulnerable expansion of Elidibus' thighs, surely raising lines in his flesh, if not drawing blood.

Those clawed fingers pull at the corner of his mouth, slipping inward to poke uncomfortably at the soft, spongy curve of the inside of his cheek. The panting puff of his breath becomes distorted with the stretch of his mouth, and drool drips from the tip of his tongue and over his lips where Elidibus’ clawed fingers stretch his mouth open, trickling down his chin.

The tip of Elidibus' cock bumps against his top lip, pressing his lip to his teeth. His greedy tongue laps at the sensitive underside of it, making the ascian hiss and thrust his hips forward.

Natus groans helplessly and obliges his lover's wordless command by opening his mouth wide, sucking the pretty pink tip of Elidibus' prick into his mouth. Welcoming him in with a hospitality that was altogether lewd.

Yes, this was more like it. He could savor him better like this. Take in more of him as the salt and clean musk of his flavor lingered in his mouth. Flavor that only grew stronger, headier as Natus bobs his head and sucks at him with such lustful greed that it hollows his cheeks.

Saliva pools in his mouth with the taste of him, easing the glide of his lips and the slippery path of his tongue as he takes him in deeper with every bob of his head. He gulps to keep the drool from dribbling down his lips, swallowing around the girth of Elidibus' cock.

Elidibus gives something like a curse in an ancient tongue that even Natus' echo cannot quite properly translate, but the feeling of it is very familiar.

Natus has no time to decipher its true meaning, as he chokes a bit in surprise as Elidibus pulls him in, smothering the xaela’s face in his lap as the ascian uses him as he pleases.

He can hardly breathe as Elidibus pulls and pushes him to and fro by the grip he has on his horns, using him like a toy whose only purpose was to give pleasure.

Natus moans, accepting all that was given to him, even if it was much too fast for his liking.

He relaxes his throat the best he can, gulping and gasping as his eyes water from being deprived of oxygen. His throat tightens out of reflex as he struggles to take in air, aught that stimulates his selfish lover all the more for the way more moans leak out from those tightly pursed lips.

A hot rush of lust pulses through his veins, pooling in Natus' lower belly and throbbing unbearably between his thighs. He felt deliriously giddy to pull such sounds from his enemy’s lips.

Elidibus may resent it, but he desired Natus the very same as the hero did him.

Natus groans, shifting restlessly on the stool he was precariously perched upon. Gods, he was hard. The leather of his trousers felt far too tight. He felt stifled, hot and uncomfortable. He needed to release some of this pressure, or at least pop a button open.

He peeks at his lover through blurry eyelashes weighed down with the weight of tears, his shoulders rolling as he slid the back of his hands forward to cup his palm over his hips towards his groin, ilming towards the fastenings of his trousers. He pops the button successfully, and had only just loosened the tightly fitted leather at his crotch enough to feel a cool breeze when Elidibus lifts his booted foot and steps on his hand.

Natus chokes as the ascian grinds the heel of his boot on the back of his hand, pinning it forcefully as his ankle twisted to and fro. A wicked bit of stimulation that was as pleasurable as it was painful, the force of the ascian’s leg pressing hard and forcing the xaela's own hand against the bulge in his trousers. His lover's other leg lifts to shove at the hero's shoulder, forcing him upright.

Natus lurches backwards as he coughs, a string of thick saliva clinging to his lip, keeping them connected even as Elidibus sneers at him. His hand throbs with pain, yanked free from under Elidibus' heel.

“I should not be surprised how content you are to be used,” the Emissary's voice drips with disdain, his boot now unobstructed from rubbing roughly over the prominent bulge in Natus' trousers.

Fuck, it hurt.

But at the same time it felt so good, too…!

Natus gives a strangled groan, his head tipping backwards as his eyes rolled in their sockets with pained pleasure, his hips bucking underneath the crushing weight of the ascian's boot.

Elidibus scoffs. “Look at you. A so-called hero, made so desperate by your own desire. How readily you accept the weight of your enemy's boot.”

Natus tossed his head side to side in denial, groaning out as Elidibus applied cruel pressure. “...Because it's you,” he retorts. Lacking his usual bite, perhaps, but Natus was so damned tired even before Elidibus had deigned to grace him with his presence.

Elidibus purses his lips, seeming ill at ease with such a response.

Natus did not know what else he could possibly say. It was the truth, even if it were one fraught with countless complications.

Of course Elidibus was different.

Even after what had happened in the Ghymlyt Dark, Natus still found himself willingly walking into the clutches of his enemy's claws, whether those hands meant to caress him or crush him.

“Is that not what you wanted to hear?” Natus asks. Struggling as always to understand what Elidibus was thinking, what he wanted.

The lack of Elidibus' answer was as withering as the weight of his stare behind his mask.

Natus swallows the aching lump in his throat, licking at his stinging lip. He could tell by the way the ascian's posture had shifted, the frigid silence between them, that the man was already reconsidering this visit.

No, no. If he left, there was no telling if he'd ever come again!

No, it couldn't end like this.

He wouldn't let it end like this.

Natus lurches forward, a sick desperation twisting in his gut. He dives back into pleasing his lover, his hands crumpling the crisp lines of his white ascian robe as he grabs hold of it in reckless abandon.

Elidibus jolts under him, grunting in surprise that was half pleasure and half pain as Natus swallows him down to the base, resulting in the sharp jut of his horns digging into the milky skin of the Emissary's thighs.

Natus moans as Elidibus yanks at his hair in reprimand, but does not let up the intensity of his focus. He was a man with a mission. He knew all the places Elidibus was sensitive, and now put the knowledge to good use.

No, he would not be deterred.

He sucks him just how he liked it, hungry and wet. All lips and tongue as he bobs his head forward and back, stimulating his glans until he could feel his lover's legs shake. Only then does he hollow his cheeks and take him deeper, opening his throat up to swallow around him in lustful gulps as he inhales strained breaths in through his nose.

“You…!” Elidibus chokes on the strangled hiss of his own voice, and grips the hero by the hair with both hands. He spreads his legs wide, hips bucking upward in abandon of all composure as he fucks into the wet heat of Natus' throat.

“Mmn..!” Natus moans his encouragement, his eyes rolling back as Elidibus uses him to chase the feeling of pleasure that he had so skillfully fanned from a mere spark to a roaring flame.

He’d like nothing more than to kick the stool beneath him away and kneel lower—to feel the full brunt of Elidibus' desire, cock thrusting down his throat and balls slapping against his face—but Natus knew beggars could not be choosers.

The fact that Elidibus was still here, let alone indulging in physical gratification, was a miracle in itself. That he hadn't used his ascian abilities to slip from Natus' grasp and disappeared the very moment his resolve to pay him a visit had faltered.

Had it been the reluctance to scrutinize his own feelings, or a reminder of his duty in the face of his conflicting actions? Natus wished he could use his echo to look into Elidibus' mind, to read his thoughts and know his feelings. It would be so much simpler if that were possible, so Natus could act accordingly in whatever manner it took to make Elidibus stay.

It is with the worry weighing on him that Elidibus would soon leave once the passion had worn off that Natus tries to slow the frenzy he had stirred up, wanting it to last. His hands pushing against the ascian's hips as he tries to draw back.

“Why now do you falter?” Elidibus murmurs as he releases his hair to catch him by the horns before he can go too far.

“Nng..?!” Natus huffs a noise through his nose, taken a bit by surprise as he was used as a counterweight, his neck pulled taut with the weight of Elidibus' body as the smaller man used his horns to pull himself forward.

Natus plants his feet, centering his gravity on the stool so as not to be pulled out of it. For his slight build, the white robed ascian was incredibly strong.

“Finish what you start,” Elidibus insists, keeping the pace that Natus had set. Every thrust of his hips is an exercise of precision, aiming for the back of Natus' throat as if making the hero choke on his cock was his cruel intention. “Or do you lack conviction even in this?”

Natus was never so thankful of his plentiful experience and skill as he kept his gagging to the minimum.

It was clear that Elidibus would not be allowing him to slow things down, so with his head held immobilized by the grip on his horns and his throat stuffed full of his enemy's cock, Natus simply went with it instead of trying to wrest control back. For however long it lasted, he would simply enjoy the moment.

He blindly reaches down to take himself in hand, pumping his dry fist up and down his cock for a few fleeting moments in less than satisfactory pleasure before another idea strikes him like a bolt of levin.

He grabs hold of the closest bit of Elidibus near him by feeling around for it—cupping his knee first, trailing down over his ankle, to then grasp at that merciless, pristine boot—and drags the smaller man's foot into his lap.

Elidibus peers down at him, his pale skin flushed behind his glowering red mask, that pretty pink blush that Natus so favored.

“Are you truly so desperate?” Elidibus remarks in a voice short of breath, watching Natus rub up against his boot to get himself off. “I admit, it suits you. Rutting at my boot like a mindless mongrel. Go on, I'll allow you this much magnanimity.”

Natus had to hand it to him, Elidibus certainly was good at putting on airs, acting haughty and mocking when he was clearly having trouble remaining composed. The very words he spoke were trembling in tandem with the pleasured shivers of his body.

Natus could hardly mouth off or reply with a smart quip with his mouth soundly occupied, so he does that trick with his tongue that he knew Elidibus was weak for.

He is rewarded with the ascian's foot jerking against his crotch, inspiring a burst of pained pleasure that had Natus whimpering and drooling around Elidibus' cock.

It is well worth the pain when he hears that strange ancient language again, another curse pulled from Elidibus' lips. It was so odd a feeling to have his echo flare but ultimately be unable to translate it, like struggling to remember a word he thought he knew.

Could his echo be malfunctioning? Was a fleeting thought, but one that Natus puts to the back of his mind as he grips Elidibus’ foot with both hands and rolls his hips forward to hump at the textured tread of his boot.

Ahh, it hurt, but it hurt so good. Natus only wished he had something to slick the path of his cock as it rubbed roughly over the ridges and dips along the sole of the ascian's boot. The little pearly droplets that dribbled from his cock could only lube the way so much.

His jaw was beginning to ache, along with his head where his horns pulled at the skin and scale of his face. Yet he knew he'd need to shoulder on, Elidibus had never been quick on the trigger. It took more than a bit of sloppy head to make the man give in and empty his balls.

Ever the stalwart hero, Natus preservers.

Divide and conquer!

That is, dividing his focus.

Natus doesn't allow himself to slack off even though Elidibus was doing the heavy lifting by using his horns as handlebars. He hones his focus on making his lover feel good by using his tongue, his lips, his throat.

He tongues every vein, seeking out spots he knows are sensitive. He alternates sensation just with his lips, softening his pout for a while and then tightening back up to suck hard at the tip of Elidibus' prick. He opens up his throat, swallowing rapidly around the length of him as he thrusts forward and back.

His own pleasure is not forgotten. He clutches at the sturdy material of the ascian's boot, fingers dimpling the brown leather as he humps him very much like the horny mutt that Elidibus claimed him to be. The head of his cock smearing messily over the underside of his boot. A stain that Elidibus would remember every time he wore these boots, if he didn't discard them altogether after this.

Natus prefers to think positively. That Elidibus will remember this moment, remember him, every time he pulls these boots on. Or magicked them on? Were ascians above dressing the same as mere mortals did?

Such simple trivialities were beyond Natus' knowledge. Elidibus never stayed long enough for him to know, and he certainly never allowed Natus to watch him dress once they were through. He was always dressed again after every lewd act, every dirty little tryst. Perfect and pristine once again, as if he had not been befouled by the hands of his greatest enemy.

Natus could not help but wonder how this one would end. Would he see Elidibus again after this? Would Elidibus finish what he had started in the Ghymlyt Dark? Or, worse, would this be their last night together like this?

The answer would soon become clear.

Natus knew it wouldn't be long now. Though his pleasure had been entangled with pain from the start, the intensity of it was enough to push him steadily towards the edge.

He could feel the telltale sensations in his body—the heat, the slow tickle of pleasure that became a whole body shiver, the unbearable need that was slowly consuming his thoughts, making it harder to think.

He tries to stay the movement of his hips, to slow it down to a grind. It was incredibly difficult. Agonizing, in fact. The impulse to rut against Elidibus like a mindless beast was hard to ignore.

Thankfully, it was one that Natus was already more than familiar with. The Emissary always held fast to his composure, even in moments of intimacy between them. Natus could not help but want to see that composure shaken, to inspire a reaction in his lover and enemy. Passion, even.

As such, he would quite happily stay right here, holding out as long as he possibly could in hopes that Elidibus would catch up to him. Drawing out the moment so the end would come that much later.

Elidibus knew his tells, too, however.

“You're… close,” Elidibus remarks. His voice was almost as poised as it usually was, if not for the deep breaths he took and the way he had to pause between words. “I can… feel you trembling. Why… hold yourself back? Was this… not what you wanted?”

Natus whines, his eyes rolling back in his head as Elidibus pins his cock against his belly by applying slight pressure with his boot. Aught that he slowly increases, grinding just under the head of Natus’ abused cock. Stimulating his glans with the toe of his boot with cruel twists and taps of his forefoot.

Natus chokes a bit on his own spit, spasming with pained pleasure. He coughs and gags around Elidibus' cock, eyes tearing up and nose stinging.

Oh, gods, this one was going to be intense. His whole body seizes up, taut with the agony that was the precipice of bliss.

The upside was that Elidibus was not unaffected, either. Natus could feel him throb on his tongue, as clear a reaction as any.

A shame he couldn't do much to push Elidibus further as the ascian tips him over the edge first with an upstroke of his boot, sending Natus spiraling into such an overwhelming orgasm that all he can do is hold on, his hands squeezing so hard at the man's boot as he writhed with pleasure that it was shocking he didn't pull it straight off his foot.

Pleasure pulses through him, his heart beating like a drum. Pulse, pulse, pulse! Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump…!

It was the burst of fireworks, all his nerves firing at once, like the burning pain of overexertion all over his body.

Gods, it feels like he's dying. It feels like the best relief of his life, yet so agonizing that he wants to tear himself away and curl up into a ball so he doesn't have to bear the brunt of it all anymore.

Noise rings through his horns, vibrating through his very bones. He does not remember squeezing his eyes closed, but the room feels far too bright when he opens them again.

He is unsteady, exhausted. Barely remaining seated in the stool. Utterly spent. His heart thunders in his chest as he tries to catch his breath, but his mouth is still occupied.

Elidibus is not finished yet.

Natus is boneless as he is moved. Used.

His brain is so addled by the lingering aftershocks that he can barely do anything at all to please the man except be a wet, willing hole for him to stick his prick into.

Natus whimpers weakly around the shape of him in his mouth, knowing he was a mess. He felt oversensitive, sticky with spend. Every brush of Elidibus' boot against his flagging cock made him want to sob and shy away.

It is through sheer will that he doesn't. He breaths in slowly, shallowly, his hands shaky where he still stubbornly holes onto Elidibus’ boot.

He closes his eyes against the glare of the room, moving his lips and tongue. Swallowing, using his voice, bobbing his head forward as much as he could. Anything to help stimulate his lover and push him to peak, too.

Finally, Elidibus trembles. His grip tightens on his horns. He feels him in his throat, on his tongue; throbbing.

Natus moans, pressing forward as far as he could go and closing his mouth around him. It feels wasteful to just drink him down, to not savor him on his tongue. But if he doesn't swallow, he'll choke on it. For a man his size, Elidibus came copious amounts.

Natus is three gulps in of hot, salty spend when Elidibus loosens his hold on his horns.

Natus pulls back, catching the next pulse on his tongue, his lips, his face. He opens his mouth wide, eyes squeezing closed to prevent from getting it in his eyes. It stripes over his eyebrow, catching in his eyelashes, dripping over the scales that curve along his nose and cheeks.

Natus swipes his tongue over her lips, stretching it as far as he can to lick what he could from his cheek. It stung at the cuts on his lip and face, but he voices no complaints about that.

Elidibus is staring at him when he opens his eyes again.

Natus smiles for him, blissed out and cum drunk. Not one to leave things half finished, he leans forward and laps at the messy leftovers still dripping down his lover's cute prick as it softened. Sucking at the pearly droplets still beading from his pretty pink tip until nothing more was forthcoming to wet his tongue.

“Enough,” Elidibus presses his unsullied boot to his shoulder and pushes him off. Pointing to the boot that Natus had thoroughly molested, he mutters with what seems to be annoyance. “You have more mess yet to clean.

Natus snorts, finding it somewhat ridiculous that he wanted him to clean off his boot when they were both still sitting here, cocks out and covered in cum. Especially Natus, who had stained his own pants just as much as he had Elidibus' boot. “What, you want me to lick that clean, too?”

Elidibus stares at him. Expectant.

Really?

Right, then.

Natus leans forward and licks his own cum from the top of Elidibus' boot. It tastes like salt and leather, and somewhat like licking the barrel of a gun. It tasted just like that dusty gunpowder smell he had detected on Elidibus’ robe.

“Satisfied?” Natus asks, arching his eyebrows.

“You missed a spot,” Elidibus says, lifting his leg to show him the smeared, tacky mess on the bottom of his boot.

Natus had a sneaking suspicion that Elidibus simply had something of a thing for seeing him degraded.

As if this was the worst thing Natus had ever had to do. Licking his own cum from his lover's boot hardly ranked anywhere near the top of the list of terrible things that Natus had been made to do in his line of work.

Natus gets one, two pointed licks in before Elidibus plants his boot in his face and shoves him off the stool.

Natus goes down like a sack of popotoes, smacking hard against the floor. Certainly bruising something.

His face throbs something fierce. A fitting end to a shite day. He bites his tongue, wanting to call his lover a few choice names, but holding back. He supposed this was Elidibus being nice, all things considered.

Natus groans, checking to make certain his sunglasses were still on his head. Phew, alright. Not cracked, but they were covered in cum. Wow, he must have shot high.

Elidibus looms over him, once again immaculate like he didn't just have his prick shoved down Natus' throat and been covered in the hero's cum.

Natus groans and lifts himself up to his knees. Stopped by his enemy crouching in front of him before he can find his feet.

Elidibus catches Natus' jaw in his hand, thumbing cruelly at his lip where he had drawn the hero's blood with the bite of his teeth. Rubbing under his nose and smearing a trickle of blood across his skin that has begun to drip down from being kicked in the face. “Where is your usual fire? That fervent flame that consumed my brethren?”

Natus leans into his hand, smiling. Intentionally meant to be aggravating. “Maybe I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time if you were wanting a fight. I'm all tuckered out.”

Elidibus' lips tug down. An expression most familiar.

“I should not have come,” he says predictably. Drawing away again, just like he always did.

How humorous the phrase “know thy enemy” when thy enemy is also your lover, your begrudging bedfellow.

“Too late for that, isn't it,” Natus says, putting on a facade of nonchalance. He was watching him very carefully now. “What do you say, this time next windsday?”

Elidibus turns towards him.

Ah, there it was. He'd gone cold again.

“I'll take that as a no,” he tries to keep his voice light, but there was a tightness in his throat. It hurts to swallow. He tells himself it's just because he gave it his all, treating Elidibus to a hell of a blowjob. Not that he was ever grateful.

“No kiss goodnight, then?”

Natus had to remind himself to laugh, rather than allowing himself to feel miserable over how their relationship had shifted. They had not been able to deny their attraction, and now everything had led to this.

Elidibus pauses, raising a hand towards his face. Hovering over his mouth a moment, but then lifting higher to press against his mask. Straightening it, or perhaps reminding himself it was there.

“The next time we meet, it will be as enemies, Warrior of Light.”

He is gone between one blink and the next.

Natus stares at the place he stood for a long, quiet moment.

The room is darker now, the moon hidden behind the clouds. The stars seemed dimmer.

He drags himself to his feet.

His bed was a siren's call beckoning him to wrap himself within his blankets and surrender to sweet oblivion, but Natus headed towards his drawers, gathering his things that he needed to wash up instead.

He could still taste him on his tongue.

#NatuEli #Natus x Elidibus #Elidibus x WoL #LadyRamora writes commissions #LadyRamora writes #Named WoL #au ra xaela #steamy spicy smut #lemon #stormblood spoilers #ffxiv stormblood spoilers #ffxiv shadowbringers #ffxiv Shadowbringers spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #established relationship #commission #writing commissions #comms #writing comms

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ladyramora · 3 months

Text

In the shadow of your heart, part 2

[First part]

Written for @/natus_Vincer

Natus belongs to @natus-vincer

↓↓↓ Spoilers for Shadowbringers under the cut↓↓↓

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Characters: Natus Vincer/Elidibus

Additional tags & NSFW Warnings:

Named Warrior of Light, Angst and Feels, Enemies and Lovers, Established Relationship, Explicit Sex, Blood and Violence, Hand Jobs, Scratching, Spit As Lube, Actual Lube, Sounding, Aether, Aetherical Sounding, Anal Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Light Aether Corruption, One Brings Darkness One Brings Light, Sexual Healing, Urethral Play, Wet & Messy, Wet Wet Wet!, Sex While Sick, Size Difference, Come Eating, Snark, Did I Mention Angst?

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....

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Elidibus did not come even as that next windsday rolled around. He did not come the windsday after that, or the next.

Natus felt a fool, waiting around for someone who was sure not to come.

During the day, he kept busy. Sometimes even into the night. There was plenty to do on the First, plenty of people who needed his help. But when he returned to the Crystarium, his room in the Pendants felt emptier.

The person he was waiting for would never be one to knock on his door.

Of course, occasionally Ardbert was there. Or some of his companions visited. It… It simply was not the same.

Natus is away from the Crystarium for some time. Even when he must return to see the Exarch in the Ocular, he uses the aetheryte to teleport to other places where he found safety and comfort, places where he may rest.

Until today, that is.

Natus knew he was in a bad way if Y’shtola, of all people, suggested he take a rest.

Though even he had to admit he was feeling more than a little under the weather. The last lightwarden had done a number on him by tipping him over some sort of acceptable amount for his body at one time and suffusing him with enough light that the hero felt out of balance.

Through sheer stubbornness he had been able to shrug off his steadily worsening condition, working tirelessly as always, defeating countless sin eaters. Continuing on as a hero should was not always the easiest of tasks.

It was especially hard with how lethargic he was feeling, every step more leaden than the last. His wounds took longer to heal even with the benefits of healing magic.

Natus was bone tired, still suffering bruises all over, and on top of it all he was wracked with a fever.

When Y’shtola suggests he rest, instead of his usual bravado and heroic stubbornness, Natus gladly goes to lay down.

….

The room was dark and cool, what would normally be a balm to his tired eyes and overexerted body.

It was no comfort to Natus, who tossed and turned, burning with fever and suffering bone deep body aches that had him curling in on himself with pain.

Eventually he succumbs to exhaustion, sinking into the blessed, welcoming dark of oblivion.

…..

….

…

In the darkness of Natus' room, hours pass by, and moonlight soon slips in through the cracks of his window.

A familiar figure stands in shadow, still and quiet as the very darkness he used as a shroud.

Yet in his white robe and red mask, he shines brightest under the pale gleam of the silvery moon than aught else in the shadows of the hero's room within the pendants.

He makes not a sound, not even the click of his boots over the tile, as he moves further into the room. He casts no shadow as he crosses through the beam of moonlight that spills over Natus' bed.

His attention had been caught by a change in the furnishings. The large table he had sat upon last time had been removed from the room, in its usual spot a smaller, square one. The decorative purple and gold carpet had been replaced with something less ornate, simple. More befitting the hero who was not one for lavish displays.

His lip tugs ever so slightly upward.

The stools, too, had been replaced by chairs with backs.

Yet it is not any of the swapped out furniture that held his attention.

It is the large, gleaming instrument in the corner. It evokes a feeling of murky familiarity, a foggy sense of nostalgia for memories he had long since forgotten.

He only knows that it is something connected to the past, something connected to the person he once was.

This was no doubt the doing of Emet Selch’s influence upon this star, who had a long-standing habit of amusing himself by indulging in his own sentiment.

The mere sight of the instrument should not stir him so, not give rise to feelings that have no meaning without the memories attached to them.

Why did this instrument feel so different from all the rest?

The piano he had altered on a whim in that inn room back in Ishgard felt far away now. That moment of passion between enemies. It was but a blink to a being such as he who could live for an age; who had lived for a very long time by mortal standards, but time spent in the company of the man sleeping on the bed but a few fulms away had always felt different, from the very first time they had met.

Elidibus reaches out a hand to touch the grand piano, tracing the delicate patterns carved into the wood. He lifts the fallboard, unable to deny his impulse to test the keys.

He is careful, using the backs of his claws to press down on the ivory key so as not to scratch them.

A high note breaks the stillness of the air, then another, then a layering of sound. Several notes follow behind it, and Elidibus stares down at his hands as if they are not his as he finds the keys as if by heart. What was this music? How did he know it? Why did it tug and twist at his heart so?

…..

Natus stirs from his sleep, bleary and feverish, as the first notes of music vibrate through his horns.

“Emet Selch?” He rasps out, his eyelids too heavy to open his eyes.

The music comes to a stop, an abrupt halt of inelegant sound.

Natus winces, his head pounding.

“Sounded nice til that last bit,” he croaks out, wishing he had thought to pour himself some water before laying down. He felt like he could drink a whole barrel of water, he was so damned parched right now.

His visitor is strangely silent, lacking the usual bite of Emet Selch's snark. It was unusual. The man always had something to say, no matter if his opinion was wanted or not.

“Could you at least pour me some water from the pitcher on the table before you go?” He asks, ninety percent expecting to be mocked by his ascian companion.

He is met with more quiet, and suspects his nighttime visitor had left without a word, but after a few moments he does hear the sound of water being poured.

“Thanks,” he coughs, hardly able to get the word out.

The air shifts as he feels a presence come to hover over his bed.

With some effort, he peels his eyes open. Shocked at who he finds standing over him.

“I must be dreaming,” he mutters, the hazy image of his enemy and lover seems like what must surely be a fever dream. “Must've been thinking of you before I passed out.”

Yes, that must surely be it.

This was quite the vivid dream, if that were the case. The ticklish sensation of that long, pale hair on his bare, sweaty skin as Elidibus leans over him feels far too real. Like cool silk on his feverish skin. It makes Natus shiver.

“Maybe you're here to kill me,” he chokes around the lump in his throat, his mouth impossibly dry. Though it hurts to do so with his throat feeling like he'd gargled glass, he chuckles with dark humor. “With how I'm feeling right now, it'd be a mercy.”

It was a struggle to keep his eyes open with eyelids so heavy, but he worried that the vision of Elidibus will disappear, just like the real one did.

He had no such delusions that this version of Elidibus he had dreamed up would be kinder to him. That would be out of character.

Of course Natus had his fair share of outrageous, fantastical dreams. Consider the life he lived, the things he had been through were—as an old friend might say—the stuff of ballads.

Any dream with Elidibus in it always seemed to be wholly authentic, at least for the most part. Natus had ingrained the man so deeply in his own psyche that any such abnormalities in his dreams were enough to put the hero off, and often pull him right out of the realm of sleep.

He is not expecting Elidibus to press close with the water in hand, lifting his heavy head as he rests the glass against his lips.

Natus opens his mouth, swallowing the water as it trickles slowly over his tongue. He wants nothing more than to guzzle it down in greedy gulps, but barely raises his arm to take the glass when Elidibus swats his hand back down to the bed.

Mulish, he sucks harder at the rim of the glass. Wanting more.

Natus chokes as the water goes down the wrong way, turning his head to hack into his own shoulder and clear his lungs. His eyes water, tears dripping from the corner of his eyes.

“You never can pace yourself,” Elidibus remarks, speaking for the first time as he wipes at the corner of Natus' mouth with his clawed thumb.

“Where's the fun in that?” Natus asks, coughing a few more times.

Elidibus shakes his head and waits for him to calm down before offering the glass again, forcing the hero to pace himself by squeezing the back of his neck. Pulling his focus on the prick of those claws over the dark pattern of scales that trail down from his hairline. It sends a shiver down his spine like an electric spark of levin. His tail wriggles under the sheets, restless with the energizing effect of his lover's presence.

Natus doesn't choke again. He doesn't breathe. He is too aware of Elidibus' presence. The occasional prick of his claws on his sensitive skin had him holding his breath without being aware of it.

Air doesn't fill his burning lungs again until Elidibus pulls back to set the glass aside.

“Thanks,” Natus says, sucking in a breath.

It whooshes right out of him again as Elidibus rests his knee on the mattress and swings his leg up, straddling his hips and sending Natus flopping back into the mattress.

He feels suddenly heavy, weighed down. The brush of heavy aether over his own, scrutinizing the state he was in.

Natus bares his teeth in a grin, suddenly quite aware of how vulnerable he was in this moment. “Didn’t think this would turn out to be a sex dream,” he says, putting forth confidence and a fair bit of flirtation to cover up his now racing heart and the sudden cold sweat that washes over him. “Not that I'm complaining.”

He feels nervous at the cold smile that curls Elidibus’ lips, that red mask leering down at him seems all the more dangerous cast in ghoulish shadows by the light of the moon.

“Perhaps I mean to distract you,” Elidibus says softly, conversationally. Wiggling the soft, supple curve of his backside over Natus' lap. His robe bunches at his hips, riding up over his thighs. Flashing pale, smooth skin.

Natus’ belly does a flip, his hands grasping the sheets in a flood of heat as he realizes that Elidibus was not wearing trousers under the fall of his pristine white robe.

That sweet little bottom of his was completely bare, rubbing against Natus through the thin barrier of his sheet and the only thing that Natus was wearing underneath: a tiny scrap of cloth that could barely be classified as small clothes.

The rest of his adventuring attire had been strewn haphazardly across the floor, just moments before Natus had flopped face first into bed, exhausted.

His hypothesis about the ascian using magic to get dressed had already been proven. He had not thought it was just as seamless when disrobing. How out of it was he? Natus hadn't even felt the flare of his aether.

“Color me distracted,” Natus chokes out, squirming beneath his small lover as his cock fills with blood so swiftly that it makes him dizzy. Or dizzier, rather, because the room had been spinning since Elidibus pushed him down.

It was a strange cocktail of feelings to be at the same time nauseated by vertigo and so incredibly hard that he could feel the pulse of his heart in his cock. He was twitching like crazy under the weight of the ascian in his lap, already dampening the fabric of his smalls with pre cum.

Gods, he was so easy.

“You are too easy,” Elidibus remarks, an exact echo of his own thoughts.

His clawed gloves skim upwards from Natus' hips to the slenderer curve of his waist, squeezing firm as he ground himself down into the large, prominent bulge of Natus' cock.

Natus shivers at the razor edge of those claws, still on edge even as his hormones shifted into overdrive. His reasoning skills were not yet dampened.

His stomach twists up in knots with fearful anxiety even as his cock happily throbbed with lust and his balls grew heavy in agreement.

This was hot as the seven hells, no doubt about that, but it was also equally terrifying. There was no telling what Elidibus would do. When last they had parted, the Emissary had drawn a line by declaring them enemies. Had he changed his mind or was he just toying with Natus? Waiting until his guard was down to gut him, or strangle him, or…!

Natus lets out a strangled moan as Elidibus digs his claws into his side, the tingle of his aether brushing over him followed by a rush of a cold breeze. When he looks down, his cock is bobbing in the open air, the sheet that had been covering him and his small clothes just… gone. Vanished.

Did he not have a tell when using his powers? Natus knew Emet Selch had a flair for the dramatic, but was the snapping really that unnecessary. It seemed like Elidibus simply willed things to happen without needing to snap his fingers or make any other gestures to do so.

Natus’ hips jolt, a gasp tearing from his throat as Elidibus wraps his gloved hand around him.

The feverish hero grips the bedding beneath him, too tired and weak to do aught but squirm beneath his enemy as Elidibus drags his glove over him. From just under the tip down, down, down to the base.

He could feel the textured stitching of the glove where it stretched across his palm, yet the well worn leather was buttery and smooth as it slid over him.

Natus openly moans, his head tilting back with pleasure, but unable to tear his eyes away from that face, that red red mask, and the piercing aquamarine eyes that glowed behind it in the gloom of the darkness off his room.

And of course, that wicked clawed hand that moved over him.

That glove felt so good, so cool on the heat of his feverish skin—but he was so sensitive right now that the texture of the stitching would quickly chafe him without some sort of lubricant to slick the way.

The slightest graze of those golden claws felt ticklish, undeniably stimulating, but made Natus incredibly nervous for the damage that could potentially be done to his most sensitive parts with ease.

Natus exerts a good deal of his limited energy just doing his best to hold still, his whole body straining with the effort, sweat beading on his brow. Even the slightest twitch could spell misfortune for him.

Aught that seemed to amuse his lover, judging by the ghost of a smile that curves the corner of his mouth.

Natus swallows, knowing that smile never meant anything good for him.

As expected, Elidibus tortures him more with wicked relish. His hand moves faster, working him over without mercy.

Natus whimpers, fearing he may tear his bedding with how hard he was gripping the fitted sheet. It was shocking that he had yet to pull it off the bed entirely. That must be some high quality elastic to hold up against his heroic strength.

Had the Exarch truly thought of everything? Natus shook that thought right out of his head as soon as he thought it. No, he hoped the Exarch wasn't thinking such things. Or that he wasn't watching him through the Ocular, right this very moment. That had been particularly disconcerting to learn. That the Exarch could watch him from the privacy of the Ocular, wherever Natus was on the first.

There was Ardbert, too.

Natus could only be glad that his friendly spectre hadn't decided to pop in while Natus was sleeping. And hope that the ghostly hero wouldn't show up while Natus was in the midst of sleeping with the enemy.

Oh, gods, what about Emet Selch?

Natus squeezes his eyes shut, head shaking. Inwardly pleading with whatever gods that may be watching to not allow any such spying or peeping from any of the men he had become acquainted with on the First.

He could spare no more thoughts for the mysterious leader of the Crystarium, his ghostly roommate, or the ascian who claimed to be cooperating with himself and the Scions; because Elidibus gives him a too-firm squeeze, pulling his focus back into the moment by the Emissary's hold on his cock.

“Ah! Please,” Natus groans and begs.

His enemy strokes only him harder, obviously discontent that the xaela had allowed his thoughts to drift from their activities for even a moment.

“Pay attention,” Elidibus says softly, commanding with his voice alone. “Lest you desire I leave you here in this pitiful state.”

Natus lets out an undignified, fearful sound as the ascian cups his balls in his palm, ticking the delicate skin there with the razor pinprick of his claws as he rolls them in his fingers.

“Ok, ok,” Natus nods. What else could he do? Elidibus quite literally had him by the balls. “Whatever you say!”

Elidibus fondles him there a moment longer, perhaps in warning, before once again gripping the hero's cock in his gloved hand and returning to the task of torturing him by a slow, dry tugging.

“Nng,” Natus grinds his teeth. “Too dry.”

Elidibus gives a low scoff. “Is that so? It seems to me that you leaked a good bit just now,” he swipes his fingers over the crown of the xaela's cock where a thick line of precum had drooled from the tip.

“Is the threat of danger something that you find arousing?”

Natus has nothing to say for himself there, so he just gives a noncommittal grunt in his throat. Elidibus surely knew the answer to that by now, anyway.

Elidibus’ lip curves at the corner, a soft exhale through his nose. Natus could pretend for a moment that it was fond exasperation.

“Open your mouth,” Elidibus tells him, cupping his palm over the tip of Natus' cock and smearing wetness across the leather of his glove with flicks of his wrist.

Natus is a bit slow to react. Sparks shooting up his spine with pleasure would do that, as every flick of Elidibus’ wrist makes him feel like he would melt, or explode with pleasure.

It was strange. He had felt almost… numb to sensation before he had fallen asleep, but Elidibus' every touch made him feel incredibly alive.

Natus lets his jaw relax, parting his lips.

“Stick out your tongue.”

Natus stretches his tongue out, letting it rest there over his bottom lip. He opens his mouth wide as he breathes in and out, panting like a wild animal.

Normally, he might have teased Elidibus about wanting to see his tongue. About how much use he got out of it. About how it was surely one of his favorite appendages belonging to the xaela, but Natus barely had the energy to spare to think, let alone speak.

Though Elidibus' every touch made him tremble, made him react like a pleasurable spark of levin, Natus was too tired and out of his mind with fever to do much of anything but lay here and feel. To let Elidibus do whatever he wanted.

He was only fortunate that Elidibus wasn't feeling particularly murderous today, he supposed. That his enemy turned lover turned enemy—turned lover again?—was feeling generous, or perhaps some form of pity for the pathetic state that Natus was currently in.

“You always liked my tongue,” is all he can manage as far as cheeky flirtation, barely decipherable with his tongue hanging out. “Give us a kiss.”

Wow, inspired. Elidibus would surely swoon at his wit.

For his part, Elidibus does not swoon or come close enough to suck his tongue that was so willingly offered.

Instead the Emissary squeezes his cock head, scraping his sensitive flesh with his claws. Pleasure and pain melding together.

Natus gives a very manly squeak, taking it for the warning that it is and says no more on that train of thought.

Elidibus makes a quiet sound at that, but Natus chalks it up to feverish delusion, because when had been the last time he had heard Elidibus laugh? It had been a long time, not since the early days of their relationship. Before the end of Lahabrea.

“You wag it often enough,” Elidibus says, obviously speaking of his tongue as the ascian leans forward, his hand lifting from Natus' cock. “How am I expected to take it… except as an offering?”

Natus shivers as Elidibus rubs his fingertips over the softness of his tongue. Making him taste the heady salt of his own flavor as Elidibus slips the fingers that had just been curled around his cock into his mouth.

“Use your tongue,” Elidibus says in that calm, velvety voice of his. Pressing down with his fingers. “You enjoy this, do you not?”

Natus moans around the fingers in his mouth, his tongue squirming under the weight of them. His top teeth press uncomfortably into the connecting metal that curves over the tops of Elidibus’ glove, very aware of the cold metal of those claws that extended past his tongue into his throat.

Natus hadn't thought that one glass of water would be enough to wet his whistle, but he certainly had enough in him to drool all over the man's fingers. Apparently even a glass of water, if it were hand fed by Elidibus, was superior.

Natus breaths in quick little breaths through his open mouth, trying not to gag as Elidibus pushes his fingers deeper into his mouth. It was less about his pride as a well experienced man, and more about not slicing his throat open on those wicked sharp claws.

The hero extends his tongue out as far as it could go, lapping at the salty mess coating the palm of Elidibus’ glove.

“So obedient,” Elidibus murmurs.

Natus would bite him if he wasn't afraid that might result in getting his throat shredded.

“That is enough,” Elidibus declares. “Let go, unless you want to taste your own blood next.”

Nope. Natus did not care for the taste of his own blood, thank you very much.

Elidibus extracts his fingers, the brown leather of his glove well wet from the efforts of Natus' eager, drooling tongue.

Natus sighs with pleasure as that hand curls around his cock. The coat of his own saliva slick enough to grant him a few slippery, toe curling pumps of the ascian's fist.

Natus' back bows, a curse wrung from his lips. He feels on the edge already. A few tugs and one good squeeze away from spilling his load all over his enemy’s merciless claws.

“So soon?” Elidibus asks, squeezing him hard on the upstroke and curling his clawed fingers just under the tip.

He was making a mess of Elidibus' glove this time around. Leaking over his fingers, sticky droplets dripping from the tips of his claws.

“Your stamina is severely lacking,” the Emissary remarks with obvious disdain. The red of his mask was twisted up in contempt, matching well to the situation. “We are far from through.”

Natus gasps, his chin pressed to his chest as he peers down his body.

Elidibus had his cock in a stranglehold with one hand, and with the other he trailed his claws over his glans. Waiting until Natus was watching with undivided attention before swirling the claw of his forefinger around the mushroom head, narrowing in on the tiny slit that was still oozing precum like it was its one and only job.

“Ah, what—” Natus starts to say, before his words become lost in a strangled cry to the delicious agony of something slips inside of him, right at the tip of his cock.

His claw? No, it was Elidibus’ aether given shape.

Natus jerks, gasping and whimpering into the open air as it sinks into him slowly. It was straight like an arrow, cylindrical. Filling up all the empty space until he felt like it could go no further.

Yet he could still feel the creeping darkness of Elidibus’s aether as it spread through him like a dark fog, a black ink in crystal clear water.

It was heavy, consuming.

Was this how Elidibus would kill him? It was certainly fitting for an enemy turned lover turned enemy. Natus could hardly think, hardly breathe. All he could do was feel, writhe on the bed, helpless and at his lover's mercy.

Natus knew he should probably feel afraid, but the spread of the darkness felt refreshingly cool. It felt like the glass of water that Elidibus had held to his lips, soothing his aching throat.

As his enemy's aether poured into him, his body reacted as if he had taken a fast acting painkiller potion. But no potion had ever alleviated his ills quite so quick. It was better than drugs, better than the succor of healing magic. It seeped into his muscles, to his bones, to the very core of him.

It soothed the ache, cooling the overbearing heat of his fever.

“What… did you…?” Natus was nowhere near one hundred percent—it was extremely unlikely that he could simply hop from the bed or turn the tables on Elidibus, who still had the clear advantage on him—but he felt more like a person and less like a sickly pile of bruised flesh and aching bones.

“Consider this… mere curiosity,” is the vague answer Elidibus gives him.

Fair enough. Natus was well used to being subjected to Elidibus’ whims. They would not be here now, entangled so, if it were not for the Emissary approaching him on a whim; in want to satisfy his own curiosity.

Natus squirms as Elidibus plays with the shaped aether stopping up his cock, twisting it round and round inside of him like a toy to fidget with.

The xaela cries out as it is abruptly yanked from him, the intensity of the sensation forcing a small orgasm out of him. He leaks everywhere—dribbling over himself, over Elidibus’ hands that still played with him mercilessly, and staining the sheets beneath him as his whole body shook with the strain of holding himself taught.

Elidibus strokes him through it, his hand sloppy wet as it slides up and down his length, strands of sticky cum clinging to his claws as he teases torturously at the sensitive underside of his mushroom head.

Natus sobs with pleasure, strung out and overwhelmed. His skin felt so sensitive, as if it were freshly healed after a sunburn. Was this a side effect of the fever, or of Elidibus using his aether on him? Was it both?

Was it agony or bliss that his beloved nemesis was not allowing him mercy, not allowing him to relax or go soft. That dispassionate face matching him in silence behind that red red mask, as if he did not care that he was pushing Natus to the brink of madness.

“Is this much not enough?” Elidibus murmurs, lifting one sticky hand to dig his thumb into a blackish-purple bruise on Natus' hip.

The hero twitches with the sudden pain.

Elidibus cocks his head, humming.

“You can take more, yet.”

More what? Natus parts his lips to ask, but chokes on his own tongue as Elidibus’ aether surges into him once again, from the very same point of penetration. His poor, abused cock.

It felt like a beaded instrument this time around, popping into him one bead at a time. The first notch was long and oblong, the second was round, the third a teardrop shape.

Pop, pop, pop.

One after another do they sink in through the slit at the tip of his cock.

Another teardrop. A short, fat kernel that made Natus whine in his throat.

Then, quickly, five round beads in a row.

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!

Natus’ whole body jerked, a helpless cry tearing from his throat as he came hard from the unexpected onslaught.

There it was, Natus heard it again. A soft, barely audible laugh. He could not mistake it this time, so in tune was he to Elidibus' every word, every breath. The subtle sound vibrated through his horns.

It was all the warning he got.

Two more fat teardrops came after, and then two more round beads followed behind without pause.

Elidibus forces them in, all at once.

Natus' balls drew up to his body, his cock throbbing in the Emissary's grip. He felt like he would explode, yet nothing substantial came out. Only a few droplets that seeped from his tip, forced out through the built up pressure.

Gods, it was too much.

It was not enough.

Natus’ mouth hung open mindlessly, drool trickling out of the corner of his mouth as his eyes rolled back in overstimulation.

His cock pulsed, abused and flushed purple with desperate need.

“Please,” Natus whimpers, knowing that all he could do now was beg and hope his enemy felt a shred of pity for the pathetic state he was in.

“Cease your mewling. We have only just begun,” Elidibus says, shoving his ring and pinky fingers into Natus' mouth. The only part of his glove that didn't have a claw extending from the back of his hand over his fingertips.

“Now bite down, carefully,” He instructs him.

Natus bites down carefully on the brown leather of the Emissary's glove, tugging it off with his teeth.

Elidibus’ hand slips free from the glove, pale and delicate. Natus had been surprised their very first time to discover how small the white robed ascian was

compared to him underneath all his ascian finer, but the xaela was bigger than most people just on account of being Au Ra.

Natus stares as Elidibus lifts his bare hand up, a small orb of darkness forming in the air above his palm like a will-o'-the-wisp. With a small flicker of darkness, something drops from the wisp to land in the Emissary's waiting hand.

A bottle?

The cork pops free from the bottle, and Natus feels some annoyance as he realizes just what it was in watching Elidibus pour it into his cupped hand.

Lube.

He had him drooling on his fingers for a little bit of spit, when the whole time he could have waved his hand in the air and conjured some lube from the void or wherever it came from? This son of a…!

Natus hisses out in surprise at how cold it feels as that lube drizzles down on him, the bottle tipped to the side and glugging in the air as he is thoroughly coated in the stuff. Oddly enough, the bottle did not seem to empty even though it was so small.

Natus focus shifts as Elidibus rests his still gloved hand on his sternum, his long pale hair slipping forward over his shoulder to tickle at the hero's skin as he reaches behind him with his small, pale hand.

Natus about swallows his tongue, watching with eyes wide open as Elidibus slips those lube slick fingers inside of himself, preparing for what comes next.

Natus lifts his heavy hand, the backs of his knuckles barely brushing Elidibus' hair.

He wants to bury his fingers in it. To drag Elidibus down to kiss him. Roll him under him and do it all for him, like he usually did. He could hold Elidibus' hands in his and kiss his face until the Emissary turned his cheek. He could strip Elidibus down and lick him all over, suck him just how he liked. Fuck him just how he liked. Hold him in his arms however long he could until Elidibus left him again. Because Elidibus always left.

Elidibus moves before Natus can muster up an onze of strength to do any of that.

The Emissary sits up, straddling the hero's lap.

It happens so fast, Natus has no time to brace himself. Within one breath and the next, Elidibus has hold of him, spreading himself open with one hand while the other pressed Natus against him.

It takes some work for him to sink in, Elidibus holding his cock firm and wiggling down onto him. Bearing down to take the girthy behemoth between Natus' thighs. The xaela claimed to be average in that department, but to a smaller man of Elidibus’ size, it was no gridanian picnic.

They both moan as Elidibus sinks down on him, though Natus is far louder, almost drowning out his lover's quiet sound of pleasure.

Ahh, he felt amazing. So good, so hot. Squeezing him just right. Natus felt like he might melt from it. Or entirely burst.

Gods, Natus had missed this.

Missed him.

The hero’s hands clutch at his lover's white robe, wrinkling the immaculate fabric in his tightly clenched fists. He did not want to let go. He wanted to keep him here, to drown in his attention. No matter if that attention were good or bad, Natus would take it. He would bear it all so long as he could stay in Elidibus’ company.

Natus moans like he's in agony as Elidibus rests his hands on his chest and starts to move his hips.

Elidibus rides him slowly at first, torturously. The pulse of his aether swirls inside of Natus, spreading out from his core.

How strange he feels as the aether moves through him, thick and heady like black treacle, yet cool like refreshing water as it washes away the heavy feeling that was weighing down his insides.

From his groin, to his stomach, then his chest.

Natus wonders if it had the power to cleanse the heavy, bittersweet feeling that weighed on his heart.

He feels it in his throat, his head, tastes it on his tongue.

Did aether have a taste to those who were not voidsent or sineater? To Natus, it was distinctively strong and slightly bitter in taste. There was a slight sweetness, but it was more floral, herbaceous; earthy. With just a hint of mint.

It was like kissing Elidibus, tasting his mouth. Breathing him in and holding him in his lungs.

Natus tugs at Elidibus’ robe. Gathering it in his hands and doing his best to lift it. In his weakness, all the ornaments decorating it felt far heavier than usual.

“Want to see you. Take it off.”

Elidibus ignores his request, so Natus flips the front of the white fabric up over the Emissary's hips. Revealing more of his milky skin to Natus' hungry gaze.

The sight of that pretty prick, flushed so pink and leaking with arousal was enough to cheer Natus' heart.

Elidibus could act unaffected all he liked, but his cute little prick was always honest about his pleasure.

“Want to put my mouth on you,” Natus murmurs, watching Elidibus with desire on his face. “Suck you just how you like it. Don't care if you fuck my face, suffocate me with your cock. I can still feel you in my throat from last time.”

Elidibus’ pace falters for a moment, the pink blush to his skin taking on a deeper hue.

Natus smiles lazily. Still somewhat shaky as he lifts a hand towards his face and licks his palm. His effort is worth it as Elidibus' tilts his head back in a hiss when Natus wraps his hand around his pretty pink prick and jerks him off.

Elidibus pace increases, rocking back on Natus' cock and up into the hero's fist. The aether stopping up Natus' cock grows thicker inside of him, making the xaela whimper with the will it takes to keep on his task. Retaliation, for certain, but Natus was tired of laying back and doing nothing.

Natus matches the pace he had set, though increasing his speed was sure to drain his energy faster.

“Just like that,” he says, breathing hard as his pleasure builds up again to unbearable levels, and fast.

Elidibus gives a growling moan, like he was angry that Natus dared to make him feel good even after he had drawn a line between them.

Well, who's fault is that? Elidibus was the one who came back and climbed into his bed, straddled the hero's lap for another ride.

Natus was rather innocent, for once. He hadn't instigated it, or deliberately seduced Elidibus.

Natus hisses as Elidibus scratches a path from his pecs down to his abdomen. His bare hand with his blunt, well manicured nails didn't hurt anywhere near the damage dealt by the clawed glove he still wore on his other hand.

Natus was most definitely sporting three long scratches from those claws, and undoubtedly bleeding.

Natus grips Elidibus’ hip hard enough that he hopes it bruises, something for his ascian lover to remember him by as he resumes jerking him off so furiously that his wrist began to ache.

Something cold drizzles over his fast moving hand, and Natus glances up to see the return of the lube bottle. This time just floating in the air via wisp of darkness. Ascian magic sure was convenient.

He gives a grin, thankful for the added lubricant to ease the path of his hand. The air fills with the lewd sound of his hand on Elidibus' cock, the bed creaking beneath them as the Emissary rides him into the mattress.

Natus squeezes him tighter as his pleasure builds much to fast, his peak coming again.

“Wanna cum,” Natus whines a bit petulantly. “My cock hurts. My balls, too.”

“Mm… Move your hips more, and perhaps I will consider it,” Elidibus replies, his breathing labored. His voice trembling in that telltale way that spoke of his impending orgasm.

Natus groans. “Who climbed into who's sick bed?” He says so just to be a shite, but puts his back into rolling his hips more.

Gods, he didn't have much more left. His exhaustion was coming up on him fast.

“How's… this?” Natus asks, twisting his slick hand around Elidibus’ pretty pink prick, snapping his hips up along with his words.

Elidibus gasps, his clawed hand digging into the hand that Natus had on his waist. His back bows backwards as he rocks jerkily between Natus' hand on his cock and the throbbing girth of him inside of him.

“Yes…!” Elidibus moans breathlessly, and Natus is treated to the delight of the ascian cumming so hard that it stripes over his hand, his chest—and with some coaxing of Natus' still moving hand—over the xaela's grinning face.

Natus has no time to gloat or savor his victory, because no sooner did Elidibus find his peak did the aether plugging up his throbbing cock pull free.

All of those sensually shaped beads, yanked out of him all at once.

Needless to say, Natus cums his brains out.

He writhes on the bed, holding onto Elidibus for something to brace himself against as he cums, and cums, and cums.

He lets out so much built up spend that it fills his lover up and spills out of him, leaking down Natus' balls and over his thighs, staining the bedding beneath them.

Natus takes his chance, yanking the Emissary close with his remaining strength and kissing him.

Elidibus goes rigid in his arms, but his lips were so soft, so receptive to Natus' kiss. They parted so easily for his tongue as Natus kisses him desperately. Hungrily. His fingers twining in that long, pale hair and his hand cupping his lover's jaw. He was warm, still flushed with pleasure.

“Elidibus,” Natus murmurs. Sighing into their kiss and craving so much more. He trails his lips from his lover's mouth, kissing across his cheek, over his jaw. That mask perpetually in the way of his affection. “Elidibus.”

He finds himself shoved back, the ascian glowering down at him as he flops onto the bed, utterly spent.

“That's what I wanted,” Natus says, satisfied.

Elidibus looks so sexy when he is mad and full of Natus' cum. The hero only wished he was naked so he could savor the sight of him more. All that pale skin and those pretty pink nipples. Well, he still had his cock to gaze upon.

Remembering that, Natus lifts his messy hand to his face and licks the salty taste of Elidibus’ cum from his fingers. Gazing at the pretty sight that his lover and enemy made, all the while.

There would only be so long to savor it, as always.

“Running off again?” Natus asks, already feeling sleepy.

Elidibus lifts off his lap, shocking the hero with the lewd sight of his cock slipping out of him, his cum following behind it in a sticky, continuous flow that leaked down the ascian's thighs.

It was an unforgettable sight. At least until Elidibus lifts his robe to fall back over his front.

Natus groans with disappointment.

“This is a dream,” Elidibus reminds him. Clean and tidy again even though he didn't snap his fingers or wave his hand. “Or have you forgotten?”

Natus blinks, his eyes feeling heavy. “Maybe so. I'm still happy I got to see you.”

Elidibus looks down at him, something flickering in his expression. “Already the light returns.”

Natus smiles. “I expected as much.”

He blinks and Elidibus is no longer in his lap, but standing over his bed. His expression is hidden in shadow. His voice soft, blank of emotion.

“Were you a complete being such as I, this would hardly pose a threat to you. It would merely be a trifle. It seems even those of the Source are not yet strong enough to survive such things, despite our efforts. You are still too weak, too far from what you were meant to be. If it weren't for the meddling of Hydaelyn…”

Natus reaches for him. “I don't care about any of that. If this is a dream, let it be a dream. Stay with me tonight. Please?”

Elidibus stands quiet and still for a moment.

“...Even in a dream, I cannot.”

Natus closes his eyes. “I know what you're going to say before you say it. About duty again, yours and mine. I know. I've heard it.”

The hero sighs. “Just go.”

He never had any dreams where Elidibus stayed with him, anyhow.

….

Elidibus is gone again when he wakes.

The pain returned to him as if the ascian had never been there.

It had felt so real, but Natus wonders if maybe it had truly been a dream.

At least until he looks down and sees three scratch marks trailing down from his chest. Too thin and precise to be from his own nails.

Fitting perfectly, however, to Elidibus’ claws.

“Some dream,” Natus smiles.

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