POV You forgot there was a child being raised on the military vessel
coming back after several months to post more Transformers: ARK
I'm bringing back Sunstreaker/Sideswipe into the main cast because Hasbro won't do it for us.
Summary: Eitan has to rebuild his soldiers' trust in their High Lord. Thesan has been gone for months, Amarantha forcing all High Lords to witness Feyre—the human girl supposed to break Tamlin's curse—trials.
The Peregryns legion is getting thinner and younger. Amarantha's growing irritability has forced Thesan to send her more and more experienced soldiers to satisfy her… needs.
Most of them never got back. Amarantha's reasons to lure them in have always been camouflaged as interrogations, which forced Eitan to send them her way anyway. One could not go against—nor question—their High Lord's orders, even less the High Queen's.
Tension has started to turn palpable over the years. The Dawn Court's people, who used to adore and praise their High Lord, now loathe him.
Some even wish him dead.
“Why in the Mother's name are you all still inside?”
Heads turn towards Eitan. The room, once filled with soldiers' chatter and laughter, turns silent as death.
Gaining no answers from his soldiers, Eitan growls. “Where is Isaiah?” Not a question, a command.
Isaiah, showing not an ounce of shame, to absolutely no one's surprise, stands up from the table he was sitting at.
“Right here, Sir!” He raises his hand, as if he were on some kind of school playground, and not military grounds.
“Today's Wednesday. On Wednesdays, I'm supposed to be seeing soldiers practicing aerial fighting,” Eitan hisses through his teeth. He can feel his blood boiling, his shirt already drenched in sweat beneath his armor. "Would you please be so kind and tell me why all of my soldiers are still on the fucking ground, and why it smells and looks like a Gods damned tavern in here?”
Isaiah looks around. His cheeks look slightly more pink than usual, his eyes glassy. Eitan wants to break his skull open against the nearest wall.
“I don’t know,” Isaiah gives a lazy shrug, “Just thought it would be nice to have some fun before Amarantha decides to call us to our death, I guess.” That makes the ambiance in the room shift to an even colder degree. “And besides, it’s not like our High Lord is going to do anything about it. Might never come back from under that mountain anyway. Not that he cares about any of us in the first place-”
“Watch your mouth, Isaiah,” Eitan warns, his voice turning into a snarl. “It is your High Lord you’re talking about. And from the latest reports, the human girl is currently in the process of breaking the curse. Or at least, try to complete her trials. Then the High Lords are supposed to be sent free."
Isaiah scoffs. “A human girl,” the title sounds ridiculous coming from his mouth. “And what if Amarantha gets bored and decides to keep the High Lords there, what then?”
“She won't. And your High Lord will come back, once and for good this time,” Eitan says with all the confidence he can gather. It's been three months, and he has no clue how long Amarantha will decide to play with the human girl. No clue when Thesan will be released. But he has to hope, to rebuild it amongst his legion, too. “So if I were you, and had some sort of conscience, I would call it a night and sober up to be ready for tomorrow’s training. You will start an hour before dawn to make up today’s wasted time. I will ensure that everyone is present this time.” He shoots a sideways glance at Isaiah, “We need to talk. Come.”
Isaiah swears under his breath, but decides better than to disobey.
Eitan leads him out of the main quarters and heads toward his office.
When he opens the door, Eitan realises how long it’s been since he’s last stepped foot in here. The dust accumulation leaves the room in a veil of floating particles. It makes his nose itch, and his annoyance grows. He had really trusted Isiah to handle things like he should in here. He had mostly stayed at the castle and worked from a distance, not thinking that things could get out of hand that much in his absence.
He should’ve known better.
“You will keep your mouth shut and stop spreading hate like the plague. You'll end up contaminating all of your comrades.” Eitan states, closing the door behind them and facing his second in command. “This—this lack of trust in our High Lord–is what's going to cause our downfall, if you don't stop it right now.”
He witnesses the soft inward curl of Isaiah’s shoulders, but he doesn’t relent. “I can't—won't—take that risk. I won't hesitate to eliminate you if you keep being a threat to my men.” He shuts down the guilt he feels at Isaiah’s outright terror now. He doesn’t want to take such drastic measures, really, he doesn’t. Isaiah is a good male deep down; he knows. This tyrant has simply turned them all a bit rotten. “Understood?”
“Yes. Understood, Captain.”
Eitan pauses, then nods. “Good.”
His large hand comes down in a pat onto Isaiah’s shoulder, then he opens the door, dismissing the male with a jut of his chin.
“Isahiah,” Eitan finds himself calling him back before he disappears behind the corner. “I trust you and believe in you. That’s why I made you my second in command. I know times are hard; they are for me, too. Believe me.”
Isaiah nods, something like regret finally flickering at the edges of his face. Then he’s gone.
Eitan lingers in his office after Isaiah’s departure. He cleans, dusts, and organizes until the movements become instinctive. His thoughts are drowned, and he relishes in it, enjoying the only moment in weeks where his brain can settle.
A knock on his door, left ajar, disturbs his moment of peace.
Eitan looks through the window. The sun was already far behind the horizon. He briefly wonders what time it is and how long he’s spent here already.
“Come in.”
Sion—a young and fierce Peregryn Eitan has personally trained to be one of Thesan’s personal guard—pokes his head in. His hair looks like a bird nest, blond curls sticking to his brows. He’s drenched in sweat, and his feathers are ruffled as if he’d flown all the way from the palace to here at an ungodly speed.
“Sion?” Eitan asks, worry lacing his voice. He scans the boy up and down, searching for any sign of attack as he looks like he’s fighting to find his breath, “Are you alright? Has anything happened at the palace?”
Sion shakes his head no, but doesn’t answer, still gasping for air. Eitan frowns, concerned. He pushes, “Sion, what-”
“The High Lord…” Sion starts, already out of breath.
Eitan’s heart squeezes, the worst possible scenarios taking form in his head. He sucks in a breath, ready to have his heart broken to pieces.
No, Eitan tries to convince himself. That can’t be. Surely I would’ve known…
“What is it, Sion?” Eitan hisses. His jaw is clenched, teeth hurting from how tightly they’re clasped together. "The High Lord, what?”
“Back,” Sion lets out a breathless laugh, looking up at Eitan with happy tears in his eyes. “He’s back.”
—
For the first time in his life, Eitan would willingly trade his wings for the ability to winnow instead, despite the fucked up sensation it makes him feel everytime he has done it with Thesan.
His landing on one of the palace balconies is anything but graceful. It’s clumsy, hurried, and bordering on dangerous.
Eitan feels like he has lost his mind. He doesn’t even recall how he left the Peregryn’s training grounds, or if he’s even responded to Sion. Has he pushed him aside? Perhaps, he’ll have to apologize for his hurriedness later.
Eitan yanks the balcony door open, his chest heaving, his heart beating fast. Too fast.
“Eitan?”
Eitan wants to fall to his knees and weep at the sound of his name—sounding so foreign—falling from Thesan lips.
Instead, he remains frozen there. He’s standing too still, too awkwardly, in the doorway connecting Thesan’s bedchamber to his private balcony. He probably looks disheveled and downright mad.
He distantly hears something clinking on the ground.
When he looks down, he notices that the screws that were holding the knob in place have fallen off.
“Shit…” He silently curses himself, throwing what’s remained of the knob to the ground. He winces when he notices how crumpled it looks.
When he looks up from the ground, Thesan is still there. Pale, just a shell of himself, standing still in the middle of his bedroom. It hits Eitan now that this is real. That Thesan is back, at least for a while.
Thesan being back also means that Feyre cursebreaker, has won her trials. It would certainly anger the High Queen, but at least for a little while, selfishly, Eitan would have Thesan close to him.
“Amarantha’s dead.”
That is something Eitan hadn’t expected to hear anytime soon.
Silence stretches between them. That revelation changes everything. It means that not only Thesan would have at least a short period of reprieve, but it also meant that…
“So you’re back for good…” Eitan whispered, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “Your powers..?”
“Got them back,” Thesan smiles, but the emotion doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I had to give some over to that human girl, she turned Fae by the way!” He chuckled at his poor attempt at a joke, then bit his lip, face shifting to something more serious. “But that’s a story for another day.”
Eitan nods absentmindedly, every information Thesan has just dumped having not quite been processed yet. “Oh, that’s… good.” He frowns, everything seeming to slowly fall into place. He feels more present now, a bit less… dazed. “I’m sorry,” Eitan says, now reminding himself of his place, his title.
He straightens his posture to appear a bit more formal. Now that he thinks of it, he probably should’ve acted more civil, and used the corridor to knock at Thesan’s door instead of barging in and shattering the knob. “I assume you expect a report? Sion went and got me, but…”
But I have no idea if he told me anything in particular. All I’ve registered is that you were back.
Since the beginning of Amarantha’s reign, it had been the longest Thesan had been forced Under The Mountain. Three months, forced to witness whatever trials Amarantha had created for this human girl, for Tamlin to get back his powers.
Eitan had never experienced something as hard before. He felt guilty about his pain, though, knowing what Thesan was probably going through.
“No,” Thesan says, his voice sounding softer than it has been in decades. “Not now, I think the report can wait.”
Eitan nods. He’s not sure where he stands, and how he should act. The last forty nine years Eitan has walked on eggshells around Thesan. Their relationship, or whatever it was, had been bruised and blurred on more than one occasion.
Thesan had not touched Eitan once throughout these years. They had gone back to strangers, somedays, Eitan almost believed that Thesan now loathed him. Their interaction had turned from respectful and flirty to cold and practical.
The Attor would drag Thesan Under The Mountain, sometimes leaving scars or bruises on his skin. Then, after a few days of servicing Amarantha in any ways she wished, he would come back. His eyes void, empty, and his face hollow.
Eitan would give Thesan a report about their losses, the new soldiers. Then, Thesan would transmit Amarantha’s new orders to him, which he was then forced to ensure his legion would follow.
Now… Now Eitan is not sure what he’s expected to do.
“Oh,” He takes a step back, ready to be dismissed. “Alright. I’ll be on my way, then. Call for me if you need anything-”
“Eitan?”
“Yes?” He answers too quickly, spinning back around.
“Do you hate me?” Thesan asks, his voice trembling. Eitan wants to wrap his arms around him, hold him tight, and prove to him that he’ll never let go. But he waits, sensing there’s something else burning the tip of Thesan’s tongue.
“I…” Thesan continues, picking at his cuticles. “I’ve been horrible to you these past few years. Nothing excuses the way I’ve treated you. I just… What I want to say is…I’m sorry.”
Thesan looks nothing like a High Lord now. His shoulders are slumped, his lower lip trapped between his teeth to keep it from trembling. He’s not looking at Eitan anymore, too scared to see something that could hurt him. Not that he doesn’t deserve it…
“I couldn’t,”—Eitan takes a few steps, standing tentatively closer to him—”I tried to, I think I wanted to hate you. After we… After everything we had gone through, I thought I meant something more to you.”
“You do mean something to me!” Thesan says confidently. He’s looking at Eitan now, at least.
“Not as much as I thought, no,” Eitan shakes his head. “I thought, perhaps naively, that we had gotten closer. You have made me feel like your equal, before… her. I thought you could trust me enough to lean back on me when you needed to. So when you pushed me away instead, and treated me the way—perhaps—you should’ve done from the beginning, it just… It hurt me more than it probably should’ve.”
“I couldn’t. It was not a risk I was willing to take. I didn’t want her to know-”—A knot forms in Thesan’s throat, air struggling to fill his lung—“to know-”
The world spins around him, and Eitan moves, fast. His arms wrap around Thesan’s small waist, controlling their descent to the floor.
“She couldn’t know- she couldn’t know-”
“Hey, hey. Stop talking, just breathe, Thesan.” Eitan applies a firm pressure with his palms on each side of Thesan’s shoulders. They’re face to face, close enough for the tip of their nose to meet.
“If she had found out…”
Eitan notices the shift in Thesan. He wears a wide-eyed expression, his pupils swallowing his rich brown irises. His eyebrows are high, almost reaching his hairline, and pulled together.
“She hasn’t, Thesan. She’s dead. And I’m right here,” Eitan whispers, pushing Thesan’s hair back, then pressing his lips against his hairline.
Thesan sobs, as if his mind has dragged him back there, back under that mountain. He has just left today, and the memories were already back to haunt him.
Eitan feels Thesan’ hand sliding to his neck. His thumb presses against his pulse point, while his other hand is holding onto his arm like he’ll sink and drown in his memories if he lets go.
“You’re back, she’s dead. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” Eitan repeats those facts—breath warm against his forehead—over and over again. And he doesn’t let go, doesn’t push him to talk. Only encouraging him to breathe, to come back to reality.
Thesan feels as if his bones have liquified by the time his mind calms down, and his muscles ache. He regains consciousness of his surroundings, Eitan helping him to locate himself by asking him to observe, smell, feel, hear…
“I’ve missed you,” Thesan whispers weakly once his voice has come back to him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everyday, I-” he cuts himself, shaking his head as he feels the lump in his throat threatening to come back.
Eitan’s heart seizes in his chest, Thesan’s words sending butterflies flying in his stomach.
“Me too,” he answers, voice hoarse and deep.
More than you can imagine, he thinks, as that stubborn thread of gold pulls tighter, tighter, until it almost becomes too painful to bear.
“Eitan.”
Fuck.
Eitan nearly growls, his eyes rolling at the back of his head. Thesan calling his name feels both like a lustful caress and sweet torture.
“Eitan…” Thesan calls again, his face tilting back, facing him.
Eitan’s cock swells in the confines of his pants, the laces holding it together stretched as Thesan starts to climb onto his thighs.
“Thesan,” Eitan nearly whimpers, hands having moved down to hold onto the supple flesh of Thesan’s ass. “Angel, what- Mh…”
Eitan lets out a delighted hum at the first kiss they have shared in decades. His mouth moves on its own, greedy. Thesan’s tongue searches, licking his upper lip to ask for entrance, which pulls Eitan out of his haze.
“Angel,” Eitan hisses, tightening his hold on Thesan to keep him from rolling those delicious hips. “Thesan, stop. Hey, listen to me.”
That finally seems to catch Thesan attention. He stops, moves his face back an inch. His lips are wet and his eyes still clouded with lust.
“What are you doing,” Eitan asks, still breathless from the intensity of their kiss.
“I…” Thesan frowns, the most adorable crease forming between his eyebrows. “I think I was about to ask you to fuck me.”
The statement is honest, bold. Thesan doesn’t seem to be hesitating, not even a bit. He wants it, desperately. Eitan does too, terribly so. The bond is tugging, begging to be noticed, accepted, satisfied…
But Eitan just can’t do it, not like this. Not anymore, he won’t be able to keep it casual, like they used to. He wants and needs everything of Thesan now. He doesn’t want this to be something Thesan relies on for relief only, for fun. Eitan wants this to be serious, something Thesan wants not only because it feels good, but because he wants him too, all of him. He wants Thesan to choose him everyday, not just when he feels like it.
Eitan slowly stands up, lifting Thesan up into his arms before sitting him down on the edge of his bed. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Eitan whispers, fixing Thesan’s hair and clothes gently. “Not like that.”
“Why?” Thesan presses, his frown deepening. “Is it because of what happened when I was under the mountain? We used to do… this, before. What changed?”
“It’s not because of what happened, I told you. I forgive you, I’m not holding this against you, I promise. You were just trying to survive.” He takes a step back, admiring Thesan in all his beauty. Cheeks flushed, a cute pout on his swollen lips… A sight for sore eyes. “I just can’t have only some parts of you. I want everything with you, Thesan.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I want you for everything, not just sex. I want to take you out on dates. I want to shop for clothes with you, and buy you gifts with the money I’ve worked for. I want to make you smile, and laugh, but I also want you to let me in on hard days. I want to be the shoulder you’ll rest your hand on to cry,”—he takes a deep breath—”I’m a greedy male, Thesan. I get jealous, and quite intense. When I love someone, I love honestly and passionately. I don’t just want to have sex with you, Thesan. I want you to choose me, all of me, for who I am. And I… I also want you to be mine, because I love you. I’m obsessed with you, really.”
Thesan sits through Eitan’s love confession. His heart is beating faster, and faster in his chest. His mind is running, but his thoughts remain blocked, unable to get them out in the open. He loves Eitan back, he knows. He wouldn’t have survived Amarantha if he hadn’t hold onto this love, forcing himself to swallow it down to protect him from her.
“It’s okay,” Eitan smiles softly, sensing he wouldn’t be getting an answer from Thesan tonight. He didn’t expect him to, anyway. “I just wanted you to know, that’s all. Take your time, Thesan.”
“Wait!” Thesan says, standing up from the bed as Eitan is about to head out. Eitan turns around, halts, waiting. Thesan exhales shakily.
He walks up to him, pace quick and confident. He raises himself onto his tip toes, and grabs Eitan collar to hold his balance. “Good night, Eitan,” he whispers against his cheek, before placing a delicate skin there and pulling back.
Eitan chuckles, cheeks red and warm. “Good night, Thesan.”
Thesan finds himself unable to sleep that night. His door has been repaired by one of the palace’s servants, erasing every proof that Eitan had been there a few hours before, confessing his love.
Alone in his room, Thesan finds it hard to remind himself that he has survived Amarantha. He lies in his bed, eyes wide open, half expecting a pair of claws and scaly hands to drag him back there.
He feels his powers humming beneath his skin, the feeling intense, weird, from having spent such a long time without them. He lets flickers of light dance on his fingertips, watching them glow in the dark.
Go, find him, a voice seems to tell him, calmly. Go.
Thesan sighs. It’s the middle of the night, he shouldn’T go and wake Eitan up just to… to what, exactly?
He starts to think about the reason he’d give Eitan, but finds none. He just… wants to see him. To make sure that he hasn’t disappeared. To make sure that he hasn’t made up the fact that Eitan doesn’t hate him, despite everything. That he loves him.
Eventually, Thesan stands from his bed, and pads through the never ending corridors of the palace, before he reaches Eitan’s quarters.
Eitan, having strong senses, wakes up as soon as Thesan pushes the door open. He doesn’T ask any questions when Thesan walks inside, only lifts the sheets, allowing him to lie down beside him. Though keeping a respectful distance between the two of them.
To protect his feelings, probably. But Thesan respects that, doesn’t push.
Something in his chest seems to settle when he’s around Eitan. His body relaxes, and his mind shuts down. Eitan is quick to fall back asleep, and, eventually, the beat of his breathing lulls Thesan to sleep, too.
ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld
Summary: Eitan, the captain of Thesan's Peregryn army, cannot contain his jealousy anymore. He's about to snap, especially when a certain Day Court heir (ahem- Helion) won't stop eye-fucking his High Lord.
WC: 2.7k words
Warnings: Jealousy, smut
A/N: I have barely seen any Thesan and his Peregryn lover (who's only mentioned once, i think, in the whole ACOTAR series) fics around here. So, I'm writing one because I can! Also, this takes place before "Under the mountain".
Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 🩷
Eitan’s patience is running thin. He has spent all night shooting warning looks in the heir of Day Court’s direction, and he is getting very, very close to snap.
Helion is known to be the biggest flirt in Prythian, sure. But that shouldn’t give the male the right to undress his High Lord with his eyes. He’s just a guest in this castle, he should show more respect for Thesan.
Eitan feels the low rumble of a growl vibrating beneath his chest. He feels like a lion ready to pounce. He turns his back to Helion, spreading his wings discreetly as to form a shield around his High Lord.
Thesan notices the action. Of course he does.
“What is it?” Thesan asks in that soft, airy voice that makes Eitan’s heart skip a beat. His hand splays on his chest, as if trying to calm the raging heartbeat pounding below his General’s chest.
Thesan looks exquisite tonight. His stylists—to Thesan’s request—have started to add more ample and flowy outfits to his wardrobe. His High Lord’s attire looked similar to the Day Court’ fashion, but Thesan wears it better. It looks different on him, good different.
The silk robe-style gown draped around his body is new, daring. Eitan knows it will make people talk, and bring a pleasant shift in Dawn’s fashion. The sleeves fall mid arms, leaving space to appreciate the many golden jewelry adorning the High Lord’s wrists and fingers. The soft pink material looks ravishingly good, it makes his skin look even more tan.
But mostly, this outfit only serves to feed Eitan’s madness.
“He keeps looking at you in a way that I find…” He looks over his shoulder with daggers in his eyes. Of course that bastard is still staring, he even looks amused. “Disrespectful.”
“Are you jealous?” Thesan cocks an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching.
He looks back down at Thesan. His pupils are blown wide, he really can’t help it. He’s fighting against every natural instinct he has in order to not just scoop Thesan up into his arms and drag him far, far away from all these people.
Eitan’s lack of response makes Thesan giggle. “Oh, you so are!” He quips, bringing a flute of Fae wine to his lips.
The room feels instantly too crowded. Thesan can’t see it, but Eitan is drowning. He’s drinking up his laugh, getting drunk on it. It fills his lungs, catches his breath, but no one but him can see it.
His jaw makes an audible click. He is. He is jealous. It’s a dangerous thing, it puts his job at risk. And there's nothing he can do about it but to watch and endure.
Thesan, somehow, seems to catch on Eitan’s distress. His teasing smile fades, and his eyes seem a bit darker, too.
“Come with me.”
Eitan follows, walking behind Thesan with barely any space between them. He’s practically on his heels.
Thesan is walking fast. They cross the busy ballroom in a blur. No one seems bothered by their High Lord’s exit. Each steps Thesan takes makes Eitan's heart beat faster. Thoughts are overwhelming him. He’s going to lose his job, he thinks. Thesan is going to remind him of his place, because it clearly is not Eitan’s place to judge whether or not a male is deserving of his attention.
When Thesan stops, a few miles away from where the celebrations take place, Eitan takes a deep breath to calm his nerves.
They’re alone, in a concealed corridor of the castle. Tall columns of marble are towering above them, climbing all the way to the very top of Dawn’s colorful ceilings. They’re cast in shadows, which is a shame, because it makes it hard for Eitan to read Thesan’s face.
“I’m sorry,” He starts, before Thesan can start reprimanding him. “I know my duty is only to watch after you. It was not my place to-”
“Why are you jealous of him?” Thesan asks, turning around slowly. Their eyes meet in the darkness. “Shouldn’t other males be allowed to want me?”
The jealousy in Eitan’s chest starts to soar again. Reasonably, other males should be allowed to stare, to flirt… perhaps even to touch. The thought of hands wandering over Thesan’s golden, silky skin makes his fists clench at his sides.
“Or should it be only you that have me?” Thesan asks, reaching for one of Eitan’s balled fists. His skin is soft, and warm. It makes Eitan want to lick, and bite, and mark- “Do you want to have me, Eitan?”
“Yes.” He growls, no better than a beast.
“Well then do something about it. Because I do, too. And it’s driving me insane.”
Eitan should run away. Should tell Thesan that they shouldn’t. Fucking his High Lord right here and now, as tempting as it is, remains a terrible idea.
And yet…
All it takes is Thesan taking one step closer, and the feather-light touch of his fingers against his chest, for Eitan’s control to snap.
He meets Thesan halfway, hardly controlling any of his movements. His body moves on its own, his lips chase Thesan’s in a frantic hurry. His teeth catch his bottom lip first, tugging, tasting. Their ragged breaths mix together as they hold onto each other like it’s a matter of life or death.
Thesan follows when Eitan leads him backwards. He grunts when his back is suddenly pressed against the cold marble column. Eitan breaks away from the kiss only to sink to his knees before his High Lord.
“Gods,” Thesan whimpers, eager to have his lips back on him.
“Shh… Let me show you how much I yearn for you, angel.”
Eitan might be the one with wings, but his words could make Thesan start floating.
Thesan’s head hits against the column, and he closes his eyes shut when he feels Eitan’s fingers travel gently from his ankle up to the back of his knee. He feels his skin begging to warm up under deft fingers, his cock begins to stir beneath his robe, visibly pointing towards the male kneeling before him.
“Cauldron boil me. Angel…” Eitan rasps, his pupils blown wide as he stares up between Thesan’s legs. “You spent the whole night by my side without wearing anything underneath that pretty gown?”
Thesan shakes his head from side to side, looking down at Eitan with flushed cheeks. He’s too worked up to even speak. The male in cause of his state has—and has had for a long time now—the power to turn him, a High lord, into a blushing, blabbering mess.
Eitan licks his lips, his wings ruffling from the unadulterated lust boiling inside of him. He swears under his breath, then his hand moves higher. He bunches the side of Thesan’s dress in his right fist and holds it up against his hip, exposing his tan skin to his hungry gaze.
His tongue meets Thesan’s inner thigh. He shudders at the exquisite taste of his too soft skin. He wants to bite right through it, like a fresh peach savored on a warm day of June. He sucks his skin in his mouth and holds it there. When he releases it with a loud pop, a dark purple bruise is already showing. His trousers suddenly feel too tight. Way too tight.
His attention shifts back to Thesan’s face. “I could eat you up.” He confesses, his voice trembling with need.
“Then do it.” Thesan answers, desire burning just as much in his eyes.
Eitan scoffs, a smug grin creeping up his lips. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
But he doesn’t waste his time, doesn’t make Thesan beg for it. Not tonight. Perhaps another time,only if there is one, that is.
Instead of dwelling on the thought, Eitan takes Thesan’s hand and leads it where he’s holding up the silky fabric. “Hold it there for me, would you?”
Thesan is quick to comply. He’s eager, hung onto Eitan’s words. At this moment, he feels as if Eitan is his axis, and his whole world revolves around him only.
Thesan gasps when he feels Eitan’s tongue pressing against his tight ring of muscles. His cock is painfully hard, a bead of clear liquid shining at the top of it.
“Fuck,” He moans, his fist coming over his mouth to stifle the sinful noises he makes.
Eitan turns his head just a fraction of a second, and nips at the skin of his buttcheek, making Thesan yelp. “Let me hear you, Thesan.” He growls against his skin, going back to devouring him.
“Y-You jealous bastard…” Thesan hufs a laugh, his voice coming out shaky. “You just want ‘em to hear.”
“Perhaps.” Eitan hums against his skin. He gives his twitching hole one last lingering kiss before raising to his feet and coming face to face with Thesan. “Don’t you want them to hear? To make them wonder who’s the lucky one to make you feel good?”
His eyes are burning through him. Thesan is in a daze, completely drawn into the male standing in front of him. His fingers reach for the wing behind Eitan’s back, they trace the shape of a purple feather, appreciating the softness.
“Thesan.” Eitan calls to catch his attention. “We can stop. Or take it elsewhere. It’s your decision.”
Thesan’s eyes widden. He cannot believe how this male would even think that he might want to put a stop to this. “I do,” He says, confidently. He wraps his arms around Eitan’s neck. “Let them hear, Eitan.”
The sound of his name coming from Thesan’s lips sends Eitan into an animalistic frenzy. He loops Thesan’s thigh around his hips, kisses him hard, and lets his right hand dive between their bodies.
His fingers easily find Thesan’s wet hole. It’s him that has made him wet, all lubed up for his fingers. He grunts at the thought, and sinks one finger into his heat.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls against Thesan’s lips, moving his finger in and out slowly. He swallows every wanton moan his High Lord makes.
Eventually, he adds another finger. He’s attentive to Thesan’s reactions. He’s a mess already, moaning and panting only from two of his fingers.
By the time Eitan bottoms out his two fingers, Thesan thighs are shaking.
“Shh, you’re okay, angel. I’ve got you.” He kisses the side of Thesan’s face gently. His left hand is tightly holding Thesan up against the wall, his thumb drawing circles on his skin.
Thesan nods frantically, trying desperately to loosen up. Eitan guides him into taking deep breaths, and when he’s finally loose enough, he moves them.
He starts off slow. Twisting and curling his fingers slowly in and out of him, analysing the sounds it draws out of Thesan. “You’re doing great. Looking so beautiful, angel.” He praises Thesan over and over again.
Thesan grows restless. He’s digging his heel into Eitan’s lower back, his toes are curled around some feathers, and he’s pretty sure he has ripped some off his wings. “P-Please,” He whimpers, fucking himself faster onto Eitan’s fingers. “More. Need your cock.”
Eitan’s breath hitches, his forehead falling against Thesan’s shoulder with a grunt. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He mumbles, slipping his fingers out of his ass. “Turn around.”
Thesan scrambles to obey. He flips around, bracing his arms against the column and looks over his shoulders. His lips are swollen, dark pink. He pushes his ass back against Eitan’s clothed cock.
Eitan lifts Thesan’s robe, pushing it up to the middle of his back. He applies pressure there to incite Thesan to curve his back more, and he does marvelously good. He’s pliant under his hands, like a clay statue.
“I wish you could see yourself from my point of view.” He whispers, undoing the ties of his pants and finally letting his cock free from its confine.
He strokes himself a few times, holding Thesan’s stare while he does. “Are you still sure about this?” He asks one last time, just to make sure.
Thesan nods frantically, but Eitan needs to hear it. To make sure he’s not dreaming, that this is really happening. “I want to hear you say it, Thesan. Do you still want me to fuck you?” His grip on his hip is harsh, probably bruising. The tip of his cock is pressed against a fluttering ring of muscles, warm between Thesan’s buttcheeks.
“I do. Please, Eitan, just- Gods!”
Thesan’s face falls forward when Eitan slides into him, his chestnut hair sticking to his forehead.
This is nothing compared to anything he’s ever experienced. He’s overwhelmed with feelings he’s too high to sort out now. All Thesan knows is that it feels good, right. Eitan fits inside of him like he belongs there. He’s a mess of tears, he’s sobbing, for some unknown reason.
Eitan halts when he notices, but Thesan pushes himself back against him. “Feels good, that’s all.” He sniffles, silently begging for him to never stop.
“Come here.” Eitan says, pulling Thesan up against his chest.
Eitan has a hand wrapped around Thesan’s throat, the other circling his hip, his fingers grazing the skin on his lower abdomen. He’s back to thrusting into him, his hips rolling against his round ass.
Thesan leans his head back, resting it against Eitan’s shoulder.
“Touch yourself for me,” Eitan whispers into his ear. “Come on, angel. Do it for me.”
Thesan whimpers. He’s close. So close. This might just push him over the edge, but he does as he’s told anyway.
Being the one on the receiving hand of being given orders and loving it is something Thesan would’ve never thought about himself. He’s only been told what to do by his parents, before, but only on rare occasions. He’s always been spoiled, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he’s well aware of that. But having Eitan tell him what to do, at this moment… It feels weird, new, but right.
His fingers shakily wrap around his shaft. He shudders when he finally makes contact with the warm, damp skin. He strokes himself in sync with Eitan’s cock fucking him against the pillar. He’s so close. Too close—
Thesan doesn’t even get to warn Eitan before he’s coming, thick lines of cum erupting from his cock and landing on the floor beneath him. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, he turns his head, and presses sloppy, shaky kisses against Eitan’s throat. He feels it vibrate against his lips, then Eitan’s grip tightening around his hip. Thesan feels Eitan’s cock twitching inside of him, his hips snapping forward one last time before he is filled with warmth.
They’re both panting, the distant sounds of the still going party coming back to their ears when they come down from their high. Eitan slips out of Thesan, slowly, giving them both time to adjust to the loss of each other.
Eitan puts himself back into his pants in silence, an uneasy feeling sticking to his skin, now. Thesan still has his back to him. He’s readjusting his clothes and casting cleaning spells on them both.
“I don’t regret it,” Thesan finally says, breaking the silence. He shrugs, then look at Eitan over his shoulders with a grin. His cheeks are still rosy. “It was fun.”
Fun.
The word doesn’t sit well, it weighs down on Eitan’s shoulders. He feels his stomach twist, but he hides it behind a reciprocal smirk. “It was.”
Thesan looks him up and down, and Eitan wishes he had daemati abilities to be able to sneak into his mind and know what’s going on in there. But he can’t. And he won’t ask, it is not his place to ask questions.
He has already crossed many lines tonight. And he’ll have to suffer the consequences of his actions when it will all come back running to him.
Thesan turns around, and heads back to the celebrations. Eitan follows, because he always will. Because he’s captain of Thesan’s army and his personal protector.
But also because he simply cannot ignore the golden string that is constantly pulling him to this male.
ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld
Y'all can't tell me that Fox and Wolffe aren't the chaos duo of the Command Batch. I think they'd be a super effective team on the rare occasions they work together - be it for investigations, interrogations, or hustling people at card games.
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