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The night of Estinien's first self-realization had been cold, the first frost of the oncoming winter season creeping in icy, delicate blooms across Ishgard’s window panes. Fireplaces throughout the city had been stoked to blazing in the face of the chill, but Estinien had not anticipated the flame that would be kindled within.
He had returned just that afternoon from a hunt that had taken him across nearly half of Coerthas before the wyrm he sought was slain, his feet aching from the last leg of travel back to Ishgard, yet an even more insistent ache for his lover had led him to forsake a hot bath in his own quarters to hunt Aymeric down instead. He had found Aymeric at last just as his lover was leaving the Congregation, a sheaf of paperwork under his arm and a harrowed line marring his usually smooth brow.
Estinien had called out his name, and he had startled as he looked up, his small frown turning to a breathtakingly gorgeous smile as their eyes met, even as his own were shadowed by very obvious dark circles that put Estinien's heart ill at ease.
Aymeric had been busy of late with his duties as well, putting his all into his newest supervisory role even as his sights were still firmly fixed upon even higher positions. Estinien had quite lost track of the date during his assignment in the wilds, but it turned out that the next day was the feast of Saint Reymanaud and Aymeric was afforded a rare day off. He was only too happy to accept his lover's invitation to spend the night at his home.
When they returned at last to Borel Manor, few words were exchanged between them as they traced the familiar path to Aymeric’s chambers.It had been nearly a year since the Viscomtesse had passed, yet the manor still felt uncomfortably empty to Estinien, and he was not yet used to being able to go to the same bed so openly with Aymeric, though it did not excite him any less.
By the time the chamber door closed behind them, Estinien had made up his mind to distract his lover thoroughly from his troubles. He tugged Aymeric closer by the waist for a messy kiss, nipping at his full lips and working open the many buttons of his blouse with deft fingers before tossing it to the floor in his impatience to lay his hands upon his lover's warm, bare skin.
He happened to glance back up at Aymeric before his touch landed, though, and found himself rooted to the spot by the look on his face. Aymeric had generally responded to his impatience in their bedroom with a shake of his head and a fondly exasperated smile, but in that moment his freshly-kissed lips were pressed into a thin line, the sky-blue of his beautiful eyes turned to ice that froze Estinien thoroughly in place.
“Estinien. Pick that up, now.”
His voice was all sharpness, pointed as an arrow loosed at Estinien’s heart… and it went straight to his cock, sweeping him from the lazy beginnings of lustful stirrings to completely, utterly aroused in a mere moment. He stepped back, his body moving without any input from his conscious mind, heart hammering in his chest as he bent and picked up the shirt.
Just as quickly as it had come, though, the sternness vanished from Aymeric’s expression, leaving him looking twice as tired as he had just moments before. He rubbed at his eyes with one hand, taking in a long, deep breath before letting it escape his lips in a sigh.
“Mine apologies. That was unbecoming of me,” he said. “It has been a very long day, and–”
“Don’t,” Estinien interrupted, turning away in a bid to hide his flushed face and using every onze of self-control he could muster not to tackle his clearly exhausted lover in his sudden, overwhelming lust. Every ilm of his skin sparked with levin, yet at the very same time his gut twisted in a strange, exposed sort of embarrassment. "Mayhap we both simply need sleep."
They had mutually decided to leave their lovemaking for the morning after that. Aymeric had gone straight to bed, while Estinien had used the excuse of needing a bath to relieve himself rather frantically before joining his lover beneath his warm and luxurious blankets. As it happened, though he had been prepared for a long evening of reuniting with his lover, the fatigue he had staved off all day overtook him in minutes as they curled together in a chaste embrace.
He spoke nothing more of what he had felt in that brief flash of levin-bright wanting, but the memory of that night lodged itself deep into Estinien’s mind and refused to let him rest.
He had intended to avoid mentioning how much such a thing had aroused him if at all possible. Aymeric had always been such a gentle lover, taking him apart with tender kisses and deliberate, slow touches each time they had lain together. It was something Estinien loved very much about Aymeric, loved the way his feelings for him shone out clearly even when he himself felt undeserving at times. It would be selfish at best, cruel at worst to demand he change the way he naturally expressed his affections.
And yet, on his next solo assignment, alone in his bedroll with the highland wind howling outside the meager canvas barrier of his tent, he could not stop the turning of his mind. The mere thought of Aymeric scolding him again in such a tone of voice, perhaps even ordering him to attend to his pleasure, had Estinien muffling a very undignified moan into his fist, rutting wildly into his own hand before spilling quicker than he had since his teenage years.
Such desires were not spoken of aloud in Ishgard, and Estinien was even less inclined to speak of them than most. For all he knew, he was the only soul in the city to be aroused by thoughts of his lover taking command of him. What might Aymeric say, if he voiced those thoughts aloud to him? Would he find it distasteful, or worse, repulsive? He hardly dared to hope that Aymeric might want such a thing for himself.. His love was enough of an improbable gift that Estinien had done nothing to deserve; it was surely too greedy to expect a second such blessing.
But with each night that ended with him taking himself in hand, giving in to the thoughts that made his blood run hottest, the surer he felt that he could not hide them from Aymeric forever. This new desire was too strong to ignore, the sensation, even imagined, of his lover doing such things to him bringing him far too much pleasure. And through all they had endured thus far, even when Estinien's soul strained and cracked with his dark memories and his need to see the great wyrm slain, Aymeric had never looked at him with anything but the utmost care and fondness. He only needed to find the words to say it.
A fortnight passed before he was able to return to the city at last, Dravanian blood still flaking from Gae Bolg's point. He was bruised, exhausted, and in dire need of a hot bowl of stew. And lonely, though he would never admit to such a thing out loud. Regardless, without thinking overmuch about where he was going, his sore feet traced the path to Borel Manor on their own.
He was relieved to see Aymeric dressed down for the evening when the manservant led him to the sitting room, even as he noted the dark circles still lingering under his lover's captivating eyes when he drew close to brush his full lips against Estinien's cheek in greeting. Estinien chose to say nothing, sure he was an even sorer sight to behold, yet Aymeric in turn held his tongue about whatever bruises and scratches he could see on his lover's visage.
The chill wind rattled the shutters mere fulms away as they settled upon the sofa, yet the fire cast a golden light that seemed to enclose the two of them in their own world, where no duty could intrude to spoil their night with one another. Estinien stretched out his legs, groaning as the heat dissolved the tension in his calf muscles. Aymeric spoke idly about the knight trainees and nothing else of importance as he retrieved a bottle from his cabinet and poured two glasses of deep red wine. Notably he said not a word of reprimand about his lover's poor posture, which left Estinien pressing his lips together in an unexpected swell of disappointment.
The wine was good, of course. Aymeric was ever particular about such things. Estinien did his best to savor it, yet he still managed to finish two glasses by the time Aymeric had reached the bottom of his first. His lover stared into the flames, light flickering over the glossy waves of his hair, his wine-moistened lips, his glittering jewelry. Estinien let his eyes trace every line and curve of that profile, shaped more perfectly than any supposed masterpiece of a saint's statue he had ever seen, and marveled for perhaps the thousandth time at his luck in being allowed pride of place in such a man's home and bed.
Aymeric surely trusted him in full, though dragon's blood stained his hands and a great wyrm's hatred burned through his veins. Was his own trust, the trust of giving his lover the choice to accept or deny the desires that had consumed him, not the least he could give in return?
"Aymeric," Estinien began, curling his wine-slowed tongue around each beloved syllable.
His lover turned to him, his bright eyes catching the firelight in such a way that Estinien nearly forgot what he had been about to say, but after a moment he regained his wits and persevered. "Do you remember our meeting on Saint Reymanaud's Eve?"
Aymeric nodded, his eyes going soft. "Of course. I cherish each night I am allowed to spend with you."
The unexpected sentimentality made Estinien's heart flip about quite violently in his chest, and he nearly considered abandoning his plan in the midst of the overwhelming urge to kiss Aymeric that swelled within him, but he pushed the impulse aside to forge onward with what he had meant to say. "You scolded me for dropping your shirt on the floor."
When Aymeric's eyes widened in response, his soft smile disappearing and brows furrowing in guilt, Estinien winced at the cracking of his heart in his chest. "I am sorry, my dear. I did not intend to speak to you so harshly. I hope you have not resented–"
Estinien cut him off with a violent shake of his head, unable to allow such a painful look to persist on his lover's face a moment longer. "You misunderstand. It… aroused me. Very much." He swallowed, forcing himself to look into those piercing blue eyes. "I want you to do it again."
Tension thrummed through him as they gazed at one another in silence. Aymeric’s face was open, brows curled in a question, and he paused before speaking with careful words. "My scolding aroused you?"
"I know not why, but aye. It did." Estinien shifted where he sat, his gaze flicking away once again as heat rose to his face. Every muscle of his body screamed at him to flee, yet he found himself pinned in place by Aymeric’s gaze. "Scolding, commanding… I have scarcely thought of aught else this past fortnight." He pressed his lips together, holding his breath for Aymeric's reactions.
But rather than admonishing him, his lover’s expression softened. "You need not be ashamed of what you desire, my love. If aught else comes to mind, you need only ask, and I will do my best to accommodate it."
"The same for you," Estinien mumbled, relief making his shoulders slump.
Aymeric smiled. "Full glad am I to hear it." He set his wine glass carefully on the table before them and reached out, squeezing Estinien’s hand in a comforting gesture.
A minute passed, Estinien taking enjoyment in the warmth of their simple touch while the fireplace filled the air with a soft crackle. His body already felt much lighter than it had at the beginning of the evening, his desires evidently having carried a greater weight than he had realized.
In that quiet moment he no longer felt any sort of pressing need, erotic or otherwise, and would have been content to sit in comfortable silence had his lover not surprised him by speaking up again. “Would you wish to try such a thing tonight?” Aymeric asked. “Though if you are not yet ready, we need not–”
The desire that had receded surged back with vengeance in a mere heartbeat, carried by Aymeric’s words. Gods, but even the question had Estinien’s cock throbbing within his smalls and his mouth going dry with anticipation. He cut Aymeric off with a jerk of his head. “Aye. Please. I want this.”
Aymeric smiled at him, and if he were not already sitting down he likely would have gone weak at the knees. A thought sprung to his mind as he gazed upon the beautiful curve of his beloved's mouth. While he was already spilling his heart out, mayhap he could share another of his late-night fantasies. He could always blame it on the wine if it went over poorly.
"You have your eye on the Lord Commander's seat," he began, searching Aymeric's face for any hint of discomfort and growing emboldened when he found only open curiosity. "Mayhap we might… practice for that day. As a… lovers' game."
Aymeric gazed at him as one silent heartbeat passed, then another, his eyes seeming to plumb the depths of Estinien’s very soul. Just as Estinien was about to take back his request, his lover’s lips parted, the tip of his tongue slowly wetting them in a way that had no right to be half as erotic as it was. Estinien swallowed, thighs tense in an attempt to keep his lust under control, held in a perfect moment of suspension as he waited for Aymeric to speak.
“If that is the case…” Aymeric began, and oh, his voice had gone lower than his usual, from light silk to a heavy brocade. “If that is what you desire, you may ask me for it. Properly.”
Estinien could not keep a gasp from escaping him as his entire body was flooded with a heady warmth. He had thought his imagination quite vivid during all those lonely nights in the highlands, but nothing could compare to the reality of what hearing such a thing said aloud did to him.
Though he had proposed the game himself, it took him a moment to gather his wits and push past the sudden embarrassment that welled up and threatened to paralyze him. The lingering effects of the wine made it just a touch easier, loosening the words where they had become lodged within him. “Aye… Lord Commander. Give me… my orders.”
Aymeric's hand moved upwards, caressing the curve of Estinien's jaw before taking his chin in a firm grip, guiding him with a light pressure until Estinien had no choice but to meet his eyes.
Estinien swallowed. This was it, then. No turning back. His head spun at the thought, each point of contact with Aymeric's fingertips as hot as a brand on his skin.
"You never received your due punishment for your lack of care with my shirt," Aymeric said, his voice hardening even as his eyes silently asked Estinien if what he was doing was acceptable. "As your commander, I am duty-bound to ensure you have well learned your lesson."
"Aye, my lord. I would do anything you asked of me," Estinien breathed, putting everything he had into returning Aymeric's gaze with the desire that had well overtaken him. His cock strained against the fabric of his trousers, brought to its fullness by naught but anticipation and suggestion. He knew not how he would fare if Aymeric ordered him to last; already he felt as if he might spill in his smalls at any moment.
"Anything? How very diligent a knight you are," said Aymeric. "In that case… you may atone by bringing me my satisfaction." He released Estinien's face, settling back against the back of the sofa and letting his legs fall apart, commanding and enticing in equal measure. “Now, if you please."
The command set Estinien’s entire being awash in a dizzy sort of lust, and he was sliding from the couch and onto his knees before his lover before he could even think to do anything else. Though it was far from the first time he had knelt between Aymeric’s parted thighs, never had he been ordered to do so, and he was consumed with heat at the fantasy of it. His hand slid over the shape of Aymeric’s cock beneath the cloth of his trousers, the faint pulse of his lover’s heartbeat as his flesh awakened to Estinien’s touch echoed in his own chest.
He paused for a moment, enjoying the sensation of Aymeric hardening under his palm, but just as he was about to move on to the laces keeping him enclosed, a force at the back of his skull pulled him forward with a jerk, nearly upsetting his balance.
Aymeric’s tone was sharp as he spoke, running Estinien through as sure as a lance-strike as he pressed his head firmly between his legs. “You are to service me, without teasing. Am I quite clear?”
Whether it was Aymeric’s words or the fact that his face was currently buried in his crotch that left Estinien unable to breathe, he did not know, but neither did he especially care. All he could do was nod frantically, gasping for air as the pressure on his head lessened in response. Never had he imagined Aymeric doing such a thing to him in his lonely imaginings on the highlands, and it was nearly more than he could bear.
Overwhelmed, Estinien turned his attention to the more familiar task of freeing his lover from his clothing and taking him into his mouth. Aymeric was generously blessed in all areas of his body, and Estinien could already feel the beginnings of strain in his jaw as his mouth was filled. He could not hold back a moan when Aymeric once again pressed at the back of his head, guiding him down further before drawing him back, his lover’s soft sighs of pleasure as graceful as a prayer, so lovely even in the depths of their shared passion.
Estinien was certain no small manner of obscene, humiliating noises were issuing from his own mouth as he serviced his commander, yet when in their past encounters he had flushed all the way down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears at his own wantonness, his mind was then suffused with an odd sort of peace. It was as if his body was being used, as if he were a mere extension of Aymeric’s pleasure. Yet rather than being a violation, it was wholly welcomed. Acquiescing to Aymeric’s demands, contrived for their game as they were, he could do naught but satisfy him. Was that what he had truly desired, at the heart of it all?
He looked up, meeting his lover’s brilliant eyes, and saw deep affection reflected in their many facets. For a moment the fantasy grew thin, as if Estinien were on the verge of waking from an especially pleasant dream, then Aymeric’s long fingers grasped at his hair and pulled him back with such force that he nearly slipped from his mouth, and he was submerged once more in the sea of his lust.
So consumed by it was he that he nearly missed the strain in Aymeric’s thighs, the slight rise to his wordless moans that signified that his lover was near his end. When his mouth was filled in a moment with Aymeric’s spend he was caught off guard, nearly choking on it as that firm hand held him in place, yet the fire within him burned all the hotter, rolling through him in waves as he felt it slip from between his lips and roll slowly down his chin.
Estinien's mind spun so forcefully from the pleasure of it all that he nearly forgot he had not come to his own peak until he was being pulled back, gasping for air as his lover’s softening cock slipped from his mouth while his own ached between his thighs. He was still as he caught his breath, waiting for further orders, but all that came was a gentle touch to his shoulder, his arm and his side, wordlessly guiding him to stand. It was more difficult than Estinien had anticipated, and his weakened legs gave way as he was pulled back into Aymeric’s lap, soothed by a voice in his ear and a hand caressing his hip.
A mere brush of his lover’s hand where he strained at the front of his trousers was enough to undo him, and he shuddered with the force of his own pleasure as he spilled himself at last. A cry tore from his lips– was it Aymeric’s name, or a wordless exultation? He could not tell which as his spine arched and his fingers curled against Aymeric’s thighs.
Before he had even come down from his peak, he was being gathered more fully into his lover’s strong arms, wrapping tight about him and cradling him against a firm chest. “Oh, Estinien.” All traces of forcefulness disappeared from Aymeric’s tone as he caressed Estinien’s still-clothed chest. “My love.”
All Estinien could do was lean back, utterly spent, the solid weight of Aymeric’s body all that tethered him to his own for a long moment that may well have been an entire turn of the heavens.
Afterwards they prepared for bed, though the minutes blurred together in Estinien's mind as he went through the motions, still overcome with the floating sensation. At some point a soft cloth soaked with cold water was drawn over his face, and a nightgown was draped over his shoulders. He came back to himself slowly, gradually, with every touch of his lover’s gentle fingers across his skin, the press of his hands through the gown’s loose fabric, the softness of his lips on his ear, his jaw, his shoulder.
“My dear, I would ask that you hold nothing back from me,” Aymeric said once they were beneath the blankets, Estinien’s body held once more in his arms, their forms molded together into a perfect curve. “Was I too harsh with you? I will not take offense if so.”
“Nay. ‘Twas… ‘twas good,” Estinien mumbled, cringing at the inadequacy of his words. But how was he meant to describe any of the things he had felt in that moment, the new sensations brought on by even a deeply familiar act, the way his state of mind had shifted? 'Good' was all his mind could muster, and though it was not enough to express himself it was the truth, in a way.
But another thought was more pressing than his poor choice of words. “Aymeric,” he said, his heartbeat quickening with trepidation as the question formed itself on his tongue. “Was this… a thing you desire, as well?”
For a long moment Aymeric was silent, then warm lips pressed a gentle kiss against Estinien’s bared neck. “My greatest desire is to see your own fulfilled,” Aymeric murmured soft against his ear. “Did playing the Lord Commander’s part arouse me, as it did you? In truth, no, it did not. Yet do not mistake me, my dear. To see your desire , to hear you cry out in your pleasure, wrought by my hand… I am wholly fulfilled by such things.”
Even long after Aymeric had gone silent, his soft and steady breath tickling the back of Estinien’s neck, his words sat in Estinien’s mind. The improbable dream that the two of them would share the same desires had turned out to be just that– relegated to the realm of imagination. But if what Aymeric said of his own fulfillment was the truth, then it was enough. Flawed and lustful as he was, blessed by Halone herself with the most selfless man in Ishgard, who accepted him into his embrace night after night regardless of it all… He, Estinien, was enough.
And what else could he do but trust in Aymeric, as he always had since the day fate had bonded them on the battlefield?
With that final thought, Estinien joined his beloved in a deep, dreamless sleep.