1,029 words. In which Anatole and Julian are horny and in love, and Julian puts his mouth to good use. Title and a couple in-fic references are from Nobody, by Hozier.
CW: Lemon, oral sex, light degrading and name-calling.
We write trans people here, sir. So act with respect or be blocked.
The amber light from the candles made Julian’s auburn hair look redder and deeper as he laid himself at Anatole’s feet. With his chin over Anatole’s knee and hands ghosting his calves, Julian looked up at him both looking like a puppy on his best behaviour, and a complete rascal, somehow. Only someone like Julian could achieve such a thing.
Anatole shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”
Now, his husband was all rascal, that smarmy grin with a raised eyebrow taking over his face. “Given how you put me on my knees, I would disagree.”
Julian moved to lie down on his side, lifting himself up with half an arm. He took one of Anatole’s legs, the one closer to him, in his free hand, craning up to kiss his ankle. He pressed slow kisses against Anatole’s skin, his warm lips imprinting on warm skin as if he had all the time in the world, or as if he was doing the most important thing in the world. It made Anatole sink into the love-seat he was sitting on, arms outstretched over its back as his thumbs pressed over its wooden edge. He sighed, warmth pooling on his lower back and gentle butterflies over his groin.
Anatole threw his head back, eyes closed. “And I suppose this is you being corrigible?”
Julian hummed. “Why, Tolen’ka, would you like me to stop?”
“I can hear that smarmy little look of yours on your face,” Anatole said with fond annoyance, though his voice softened when he spoke again, “but please, do go on.”
Julian kneeled down now. He sat on his heels as he lifted one of Anatole’s legs at a time, leaving what were now reverent, insatiable kisses over his legs. He held them gently, even if his fingers pressed into Anatole’s skin, like both thirst and an anchor. Little mattered to Julian then but being at Anatole’s disposal. It had always been one of his favourite places to be.
He steeled himself not to rush it, though he wanted to. He wanted Anatole to sink his fingers into his hair, his blunt nails scratching along his scalp until he found a good spot to settle them and pull. Pull him between his legs, pull him on the floor, no longer at his disposal but at his mercy. Yet he knew him; he knew him very well. Few things undid Anatole like compelling him to take it slow, letting his partner show him the dues Julian thought he deserved.
He couldn’t do less than that. Above all, he liked to be his Tolja’s Good Boy. Sparks of mischief and all.
Still kissing him, Julian resumed their conversation, hot breath against Anatole’s right calf. “I thought you didn’t tolerate incorrigible behaviour.”
“Ilya, if you take this from me, I’ll be crossed in the unsexy way.”
“I don’t know, I always think your anger is sexy.”
He snorted. “Even when directed at you?”
“Ah, but especially then. Nothing like a fear boner to remind me why I happen to be yours, Tolen’ka.”
“What can I say,” Anatole said, barely containing his laughter, “I wouldn’t fall for someone I thought couldn’t misbehave.”
Anatole lifted his head, still trying to keep a straight face as he levelled Julian a look but he couldn’t resist. He laughed so hard he leaned forward, holding his sides. His laughter caught Julian by surprise, as if he had somehow forgotten how much he loved it since the last time he heard it. It was infectious and he laughed with him, echoing each other until it died down and only loose giggles escaped their lips.
Anatole gave Julian an unabashedly fond look. “Who said you could stop.”
Julian laughed again. “Right on it, sir.”
Julian made haste to resume his kisses, hungry mouth trailing upwards over the inner side of Anatole’s legs. When Julian’s head was between his thighs, Anatole locked his legs behind his neck, pushing him forward with his heels — although Julian had no plans to go anywhere else but forward. This was exactly where he wanted to be, mouth against Anatole’s folds, nose against his clit. His smarmy facade fell before he could count to three, as he had no further desire than to make Anatole feel good. That was why he was there, after all, to open his mouth so he could be of use.
Anatole groaned through his closed lips. He licked them and exhaled, sinking further on the love-seat as he tilted his hips closer to Julian. One of his hands was quick to find his hair, tugging at it as he gasped when Julian sucked on his clit with just the right amount of pressure. He pulled him closer to himself, feeling Julian moan against his skin and his slick. Julian had always been good at giving head, that night was nothing else. He ate him like a man starved, his mouth soft against his folds, but his tongue firm when it pushed inside him.
He took his time, drool and Anatole’s cum over his lips. Julian kept going, begging after Anatole came to let him keep going: he wanted to be good to him, he wanted him to use him and he wanted to feel that grip on his skull as Anatole was coming again. He could feel his aftershocks over his tongue, making a strained sound when Anatole called him a greedy slut. Yes, yes he was one, and he wanted to be treated like sluts were treated. ‘Please, sir’, and all.
Anatole couldn’t deny such a good boy, so he let Julian eat him out until he had enough of it. With how eager he was he might come by eating him out alone; if he did Anatole might make him lick his own come, depending on where it fell. Or perhaps collect it on his fingers and make him open up. Maybe Julian wouldn’t come, needing Anatole to help with it, desperate slut that he was — Anatole told him as much.
Either way, he’d find a way to reward him for his service, even if letting him eat him was a reward in and of itself.
Soft asks, 11 and 20 for julinana if you’re feeling obliging?
Julinana hours are always, so you bet
11. What's their favouritism thing that their partner has ever said to them
That Julian wants a future with him. That’s literally it.
Julian and Anatole have circled each other for years, timing, personal reasons, and things that don’t depend on themselves blocking all the potential that they have. For so long. And here is this man, this wonderful man who is good and kind, and smarter and better than he gives himself credit for, wanting a future with him.
He’s done for.
20. What's something they do absent-mindedly that their partner finds adorable.
Anatole talks to himself, and Julian could literally hear him go for hours. Sometimes he just starts muttering to himself as a way of keep track of things (it helps with his thinking process and executive dysfunction), and Anatole doesn’t always realise he’s doing it because the tunnel vision kicks in, and Julian absolutely loves it.
Other contenders are:
How he moves, specially when he dances in place.
How he stretches his fingers idly.
Sometimes he sticks out his tongue in concentration.
When he realises something, and his brain is about to go into full speed, he frowns in such a particular way.
How Nana hooks his foot under his calf as a reflex as soon as they sit down on a table.
