if i was born as a blackthorn tree

[notapaladin]

It's about trust, when Teomitl offers his wrists to be bound - trust, and obedience, and all the love he has in his heart.

...yeah, shameless bondage smut.

-

The wind was screaming outside, heralding a storm, but inside Acatl’s house it was still and quiet. The torches barely even flickered in their holders. Teomitl exhaled slowly, eyes sliding shut. He felt like his heart should be racing—it had, when he’d proposed this, and Acatl had been flushed and hesitant and full of are-you-sure’s and is-this-really-alright’s—but instead it lay calm and steady in his chest, each beat steady as a drum. There was no need to worry. He was safe. Acatl would take care of him.

The cords tightened a little around his wrists, and Acatl slipped two fingers between the cotton and his skin to test the fit. His touch was warm on Teomitl’s skin—warmer still because this was, at the moment, the only place they touched, even though he knelt between Teomitl’s spread legs. His voice was soft. “Alright?”

He rolled his shoulders, considering. Yes, he could move—having his hands tied above his head wasn’t so much of an impediment, not for a trained warrior—but that wasn’t the point. The point was, just for tonight, to put himself and his pleasure entirely at Acatl’s mercy. To make sure that his honorable lover, who put his full trust in nothing short of the gods themselves, knew that the gods weren’t the only ones worthy of the honor. To demonstrate faith, and willingness, and commitment. Let me show you how well I intend to obey you, he’d whispered then, and Acatl had made a sound that would live in his mind forever. The memory made him shudder, made his cock throb, and it took a moment for him to find his voice. “Yes.”

“Good,” Acatl said, and kissed him.

It was entirely possible that he’d meant to make it sweet and tender. His lover was good to him like that. But if that was his plan, it only lasted a moment; Teomitl hummed when their lips met, and then Acatl was deepening that kiss and turning it into something hungry, something with teeth. All Teomitl could do was arch into it, letting his mouth be coaxed open for Acatl’s tongue and gasping at the sting when he caught his lower lip between his teeth. “Nnh, Acatl...” More, he wanted to say. Touch me more.

“Mm?” Acatl broke their kiss, mouth red and eyes heated. “What do you want, Teomitl?” He’d kept a hand where Teomitl’s wrists were tied, and now he squeezed lightly.

He took a breath. “Touch me.”

One finger trailed lightly—too lightly—over the inside of his wrist. It almost tickled, but then Acatl used his nails and it stung just enough to be interesting. “I am touching you.”

“Not like that.” They still weren’t touching nearly enough; he felt his pulse pound with the sheer awareness of his own skin. He wanted to draw his knees up and wrap his legs around Acatl’s waist, but he forced himself to remain still. He’d sworn to let Acatl set the pace, and if that meant he was in for a torturously slow time...well, he wouldn’t complain. Not with the way Acatl was looking at him like something precious.

His lover’s eyes gleamed. “...Mmm. I see.”

Fingertips traced the veins in the underside of his forearm and down to his elbow, the faint scratch of nails making him shiver. He almost wanted to close his eyes, the anticipation too much to bear, but he didn’t. Acatl’s eyes were still locked on his, and those cool and calloused fingers were continuing down over his shoulder now. When nails dug into his collarbone, he gasped.

And Acatl smiled. “You’d rather I leave marks, don’t you?” He drew his nails slowly down over Teomitl’s chest, hard enough to leave red lines behind; they would fade within the hour, but he’d know they’d been there. Even now, they sparked over his skin. “You’d tell everyone they were from Mihmatini, but I’d look at you, and you’d know. They’d be our little secret.”

He shuddered, and this time he couldn’t stop himself from squirming in a way that slid the inside of his knees along Acatl’s flanks. It didn’t go unappreciated; he saw the way Acatl’s eyes darkened, the way his half-hard cock pulsed a little stiffer. “I,” he panted. Wouldn’t tell anyone—want to tell the truth—want to let even the gods know how well you treat me— but he couldn’t say any of that, because Acatl chose that exact moment to scrape his thumbnail over one nipple, and it left his mind blank.

“Ah!” It just kept going; after a moment Acatl started to devote his attention to the other one too, circling those sensitive little nubs of flesh in ways that sent raw pleasure sizzling down his spine. It was all he could do to keep his bound hands where they were; his legs were beyond his control, calves pressing against Acatl’s ribs in a desperate and futile attempt to urge him on. He sucked in a breath. “Fuck you, Acatl, you know how much I—nnh!”

Acatl was just as hard as he was, but seemed entirely unwilling to cease tormenting him. Indeed, when Teomitl snarled at him, his voice took on a tone of dry amusement. “You enjoy that.”

And then he lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his tongue. Teomitl was shocked into a cry of pleasure, back arching helplessly. The first scrape of teeth on already-primed flesh made him keen, shuddering down to his bones with the effort of staying still—of being as obedient as he’d sworn to be, of not twisting out of the ropes and taking control. I promised I wouldn’t. I promised.

But gods, Acatl was relentless. When he found something Teomitl enjoyed, he’d keep it up until they were both sated, and with Teomitl unable to retaliate he was perfectly capable of drawing it out all night. His tongue was molten, soft but not soothing in the least, and the way the position made loose hair spill over Teomitl’s flanks only added to the assault of sensation. Even when he lifted his head, hot breath washed over Teomitl’s skin. “You’re more sensitive than I thought.”

“Because you’re teasing me—oh.” Acatl had never really stopped paying attention to his other nipple, and now he pinched it hard. With the pain came a surge of heat, something that was only intensified when Acatl’s other hand slid down over Teomitl’s ribs to his hip in a single smooth caress. Fingers squeezed, once—and stopped.

“You wanted to be at my mercy,” Acatl breathed. “You wanted me to do exactly this—to be selfish, to sate my desires in you. But if you truly want me to stop...”

“Don’t you dare,” he snapped. “Just...nnh...” That thumb was still idly circling in its spot, but it wasn’t enough. He rolled his hips, and Acatl—that bastard—didn’t move at all. His other hand stayed right where it was, nails digging lightly into his ass. Teomitl’s pulse hammered in his ears such that he almost couldn’t hear the way the wind still howled outside. Please, he thought breathlessly. Please.

Acatl drew in a breath, and for a moment he thought he’d won. But then he spoke, and his words dashed Teomitl’s hopes of release. “Oh, I won’t. There’s so much I want to do with you, after all.” His voice lowered to something very nearly a growl. “You’re always so eager to touch me, to run your hands all over me; it makes me feel a bit rushed sometimes. I never get a chance to explore you. Now you’ve given me one and asked me to take advantage, what else do you think I’ll do?”

He might have ventured a few ideas, but the rough and wanting and hungry edge in Acatl’s voice was eroding his ability to think. His entire world had narrowed down to the mat under his back, the tension in his wrists, the throbbing heat of his cock and everywhere Acatl was touching him. It was all he could do to gasp, “Gods, Acatl-tzin...”

“I can think of a few things.” Acatl sat back and studied him, head tilted. Though he was a little flushed—some embarrassment had never truly left—his voice was steady. “You’re so vocal. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I were to truly take my time...mm, here, perhaps?” Fingers trailed down the inside of Teomitl’s thigh, just where he was sensitive, and he shuddered. “Or here?” Another touch, feather-light, to the curve of his throat. “Or if I prepared you to my satisfaction, never mind how much you demand that I fill you. I could spend hours with you, love.”

He made a noise that was definitely a whimper, low in his throat. He could see it dizzyingly clearly in his mind’s eye—Acatl’s strong, sure hands and deliciously hot mouth working him slowly, deaf to his pleas. Acatl stringing him out all night, bringing him just to the edge of release over and over, making him sob his name to the heavens before allowing him to come. It wouldn’t matter that he was Master of the House of Darts, that he would be Revered Speaker—Acatl had promised him hours, and he’d keep that promise. But he was wrong about one thing; if he did any of that, Teomitl wouldn’t be demanding. He’d be begging. “Fuck,” he panted.

“...That is the idea.”

It took a minute to sink in. Then he lifted his head, staring at him incredulously, and asked, “Did you seriously just make a joke at a time like this?!”

Judging by the look on Acatl’s face, he was just now realizing it as well. “Not on purpose,” he huffed, and he looked so offended at himself that if Teomitl hadn’t promised to be good he would have sat up and kissed him. He couldn’t help but smile, though, and Acatl smiled back. “You’re a terrible influence on me.”

“...But you love it.” He knew it was true; there was no way Acatl would have given him so much of his time and energy if it wasn’t. When Acatl laid a hand on his heart, he thought he might melt.

His lover’s eyes were soft and affectionate. “I do. But that’s not what you want tonight, is it?”

He sucked in a breath, about to agree— no, I want you to be selfish, I want you to claim me completely —but then Acatl’s mouth lowered to his neck and all he could do was whine in helpless arousal. It had taken no time at all for his lover to discover just how much he liked any sort of attention there, though their need for discretion meant they usually had to be careful. Tonight wasn’t a usual night. Lips pressed just under his ear, and he shivered.

“Oh.” With his wrists bound he couldn’t touch, couldn’t tangle his fingers in the shimmering obsidian fall of Acatl’s hair to keep him where he wanted; all he could do was arch, breathing hard, as the gentle, insistent pressure of that hot mouth grew sharp. Each little nip or rough hum drew an incoherent noise from him, a wordless little sound of encouragement. “Nngh...Acatl...” He knew he was whining. He didn’t care, not if it meant Acatl kept going.

Teeth settled at his neck just above his collarbone, where not even the most well-tied cloak could possibly hide it, and bit down. Hard.

“Acatl!” His lover’s name ripped out of him in a scream, and the tiny part of his brain still capable of any thought at all was glad that the howling wind would snatch it away. The rest of him was swimming in sensation, half-grinding against Acatl’s stomach in a vain search for any kind of relief. It hurt, it hurt, but all the pain just burned through his veins and left shaking need behind.

Acatl growled as the wet heat of his tongue swept over the place he’d just bitten—then his mouth moved, sucking at the tender skin in a way that would be guaranteed to bruise, and Teomitl gasped. It might have been his lover’s name, but he was rapidly becoming incapable of even that. Everyone will see. Everyone will know. “Ha...harder— ah!” There was that flash of pleasure-pain, and for a moment he thought—hoped—Acatl had broken skin. Make me bleed for you. Give the pain to the gods. I deserve it. But there was none of the shimmering heat of living blood meeting the air, and that was almost a disappointment. Almost. “Gods, gods, Acatl...”

“Hmm?” He could feel the vibration of that sound through his skin. When Acatl lifted his head, his eyes were sharp and bright as a jaguar’s. “Oh, do you want more?” He was clearly trying to sound uninterested and just as clearly failing; Teomitl only had to look down between their bodies to see the deliciously evident proof of that.

But he’d been asked a question, and he knew Acatl expected a prompt response. “Yes,” he rasped out. “Yes, please.”

Acatl sat up, and Teomitl mourned the loss of that lean body stretched over his. He didn’t mourn for long, though; lips trailed delicately over the inside of his thigh, and he let his legs fall open with a half-swallowed moan. Acatl murmured, “I’m sorry. I said I’d take my time with you, but...I’m afraid I can’t resist you for that long. You’re much too tempting.”

And you a priest, he thought fondly. There had been a time when the idea of tempting Acatl to break his vows had filled him with shame, but that time was long gone; now there was only a fierce, filthy sort of pride that Acatl desired him that much. Not that he could dwell on it; there was the sound of a jar of oil being opened, and it sent a hot pulse of anticipation through him. He shifted, raising his hips up a bit to put himself on display. The movement spread him just that tiny bit open, and this time he didn’t bother swallowing the sound that escaped his lips.

It didn’t go unnoticed. Acatl’s eyes went hot as he looked him over, and the fingers that trailed up his thigh were slick and purposeful. “I’d say you should relax for me, but I know that’s a lost cause.” There was a sharp little pinch, making Teomitl gasp as he continued—voice low and heavy with promise—“But oh, you’ve been very good for me so far. You should be rewarded.”

You’ve been good probably shouldn’t have made his cock throb so hard or made sheer want rear up like a striking snake in his belly, but it did. “Acatl—” Then one finger slid in, and Teomitl’s eyes rolled back in his head. There was so much oil that it dripped from Acatl’s hand and onto the mat under them, but that did nothing to dull the exquisite sensation of being breached. “More,” he gasped, but Acatl ignored him; he just kept pushing in, inexorably, up to the knuckle, until Teomitl was trembling helplessly around him. Then he started to move, and by now he knew Teomitl’s body as well as his own; each slow slide of that digit struck that spot that turned Teomitl’s limbs to jelly, pushed a gasping cry out of him, and he nearly sobbed with the urge to move.

It wasn’t like Acatl would let him. The hand not working him open and striking fire along his spine had his knee in a firm grip that kept his legs apart and made it very clear that Acatl would be setting the pace—and the pace he set was achingly slow. “More?” he breathed, and at Teomitl’s frantic nod another finger joined the first, stretching him—but it wasn’t enough. Oh, he certainly felt it; each curl of Acatl’s fingers and slow, deep thrust inside him built up the electric storm of pleasure to something that made his oversensitive skin shudder. But he wanted more than that, wanted to be filled.

“Acatl,” he whined—yes, whined, there was absolutely no room for dignity here—“please...”

A third finger, and now it almost hurt, but the ache was what he needed; he could feel himself being molded by those impossibly skilled fingers, had to shut his eyes in a vain attempt to stem the tide of pleasure. True, it was slower than he liked, but his body didn’t care; his hips rolled entirely on their own, tight little circles meant to get Acatl as deep as possible, and Acatl had to be affected too because he was moving a bit faster, was pumping those long fingers in and out in just the right manner to turn the skittering sparks into a conflagration, and each of Teomitl’s gasping cries came out close to screams. “Ah—harder, gods, just there—Acatl-tzin, please, please, just—more!”

“More of this?” Acatl growled. “Like this, my heart?”

“Yes,” he gasped, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Acatl obeyed him he’d come just from this alone.

Acatl hummed, sounding very satisfied with himself. “Alright, then.”

And then he stopped.

The building pressure was cut off so fast that Teomitl’s head spun—for a moment he could only tremble on the edge, breathing hard, and then he snapped, “Acatl-tzin!” in a tone that he’d intended as commanding but which came out more desperate than anything else. Those three fingers were still buried within him, unmoving, and he was trembling around them.

“Hm?” There was a smile on Acatl’s face. It wasn’t a very nice one, and belatedly he cursed himself for forgetting that Acatl could, when the mood took him, be downright mean on the mat. He cursed himself more for liking it.

“Fuck me,” he snarled.

Acatl’s eyes narrowed, voice taking on more than a tinge of displeased authority. “Ask nicely.”

He’d seen a similar expression quite often when he’d still been the man’s student, and it had always been much more stimulating than it ought to have been; he’d forever been torn between the need to please him and the wicked desire to rile him up further. Deployed now, when they were both naked and hard and eager, it only made him groan. “Acatl!” Wreck me. Ruin me. Show me how strong you are.

But that wasn’t a response to his command, and Acatl knew it. “Have you forgotten your manners?” He cocked an eyebrow and oh, that absolutely should not have gone straight to Teomitl’s cock, but it did.

He bit his lip. Acatl’s fingers curled, temporarily scrambling his brain, but then he gasped out, “Fuck me—gods, please —” and Acatl’s eyes gleamed.

Then those fingers were gone, and for a miserable heartbeat he was echoingly empty—but then Acatl was replacing them with his cock, and all Teomitl could do was moan in relief as he was finally, properly filled. His thoughts scattered to the four winds as Acatl pushed in, one smooth and relentless stroke that didn’t end until he was fully hilted. He could do nothing but take it, all his limbs trembling with disjointed heat as he adjusted. It was just so much, after all that had been done to prepare him; when he blinked, there were tears in his eyes. “Nnngh...”

“You feel perfect,” Acatl breathed. “My Teomitl.” He was utterly still, but from the faint tremor in his limbs and the white-knuckled fist he was holding himself up with, it was surely costing him. Teomitl wondered, briefly, just how long his self-control would last.

He met Acatl’s eyes and breathed, “Yours.”

And then he had his answer, because Acatl withdrew only an inch before slamming back into him, hard enough that his head snapped back and his body arched like a drawn bowstring as he cried out his pleasure. Yes, this was what he wanted, what he needed. Be selfish, he’d asked, and Acatl was doing just that. In this he was quiet, but his rough little grunts and snarls were music to Teomitl’s ears. When the right angle made him gasp and clench down, it pulled out a low growl of “Fuck, Teo—ngh, you little tease— ” that sent shockwaves through him.

More. More. He bucked his hips frantically, and after a moment they established a rough, relentless rhythm. Each thrust fucked increasingly desperate cries out of him, but when he thought dizzily I have to touch him and went to bring his arms down Acatl’s hand was there, pinning his wrists flat to the mat again. He could have cried.

Acatl’s eyes went hard. For a moment his hips stilled, an infuriatingly tiny bit off from the spot where Teomitl desperately needed his cock to be. “You promised.”

His lungs burned, but he drew in a shuddering breath. “I did.” And I keep my promises. I always do.

“So long as you remember,” Acatl growled, and fucked back into him. Now his hands settled at Teomitl’s hips, bending and molding him into the position he wanted, and where he’d been merely relentless before, now he was ruthless. Every stroke inwards fed the flames into an inferno, building higher and higher until his blood was singing with it, until he could almost taste how close he was to release.

“Acatl.” It was too much, he wasn’t going to last. His voice cracked as he gasped his lover’s name. “Acatl—please, I’m—”

Acatl didn’t vary his pace by so much as a second. The words came out rough with his own hunger as he breathed, “Come on, I want to see you.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

It sent him over the edge. He came so hard his vision blurred and his world turned white around the edges, crescendoing pleasure sending lightning through his veins. Higher brain functions ceased entirely; for a moment he wasn’t even sure he was breathing. There was only tight, spasming need and release.

When he could think again he realized Acatl was still hard, and locked his legs around his waist before he could get any ideas about pulling out and taking care of himself. Yes, he’d just had one of the most intense orgasms of his life, but it wasn’t enough. Give me more, he thought fiercely. Give me all of you. I want it all.

And he did. He sped up when he was close to climax, pounding into Teomitl’s body in a way that ought to have hurt—and might have, if each thrust still hadn’t been at that perfect angle to wring yet more pleasure out of him. “Duality,” he panted. “Teomitl—“

And then he was coming, spilling himself so deep inside that all Teomitl could do was sob as his overstimulated body clenched around him. It felt like it went on forever, but eventually Acatl was still save for the heaving of his chest and the long, quiet shiver that coursed through him as he caught his breath.

For a long time afterwards, there was no sound other than their harsh panting and the scream of the wind outside, finally audible again as Teomitl’s heart stopped hammering against his ribcage . Finally Acatl pulled out, and Teomitl moaned as the action sent another little twitch of arousal through him. Even as spent as he was, it still felt good. “Mm...”

Acatl took a breath and let it out in a long sigh, lowering himself to his elbows. Like this, they were close enough to kiss, and his lips were soft and gentle when he did. So was his voice. “That was wonderful.”

“Mm-hmm,” he managed. Words were still just a bit out of his reach, even though the aftershocks of his own climax had faded. And then, too, his wrists were still bound, and now that he was no longer being driven to the end of his endurance with ecstasy it was getting sort of annoying. He grimaced, rolling his shoulders, and Acatl took notice.

“Here, let me...” Untying the knot would have been just as easy, but the sharp edge of obsidian just barely grazing Teomitl’s skin as Acatl sliced through the rope was another little pleasure. “How do you feel?”

“Gggnh,” he grumbled. And then, after a moment of working his jaw uselessly, “Great.” Worn out—gods, he’d feel it in his shoulders and hips for a week, and the spot where Acatl had bitten him would be a rainbow by dawn—but great. It was impossible for him to feel otherwise with Acatl taking care of him.

His lover’s smile was radiant. “I’m glad. I’ll clean us up, alright?”

T hat meant he had to pull away, and Teomitl missed the warmth and the closeness of him immediately, but then he was back with a damp towel and gentle hands, and all Teomitl had to do—again—was lay there and take it. It wasn’t a hardship. After all that, he wasn’t sure he could move. It was only with effort that he found his voice again. “Acatl, I...” Love you. Want you with me forever. Can’t wait to be crowned Revered Speaker, because then I’ll be a shield for your left hand and a sword for your right, and I swear the entire empire will know how much I honor and revere you.

Acatl settled onto his side, gazing at him fondly. “Hm?”

He felt his face burn. Everything he’d thought was true, but if he said any of it he’d have to say all of it, and he didn’t have enough strength for the speech Acatl deserved. So instead, he cracked a smile. “We should do this more often.”

“Have mercy on me,” Acatl muttered.

And then he chuckled, and Teomitl grinned in response, and then they were kissing again, long and sweet. Acatl’s hands settled at his waist; his own went, finally, into his lover’s hair. “Did I please you?” he murmured when they paused for breath; he hadn’t planned on saying anything, but it slipped out regardless.

Acatl lifted a hand to caress the side of his face, swiping a thumb across his cheekbone. His voice was the most tender thing Teomitl had ever heard. “You did. Very, very much. What you’ve given me ... is well worth any risk.”

He exhaled slowly, knowing Acatl wasn’t just referring to what they’d just done. After what he’d nearly done to the Fifth World, he could still barely believe Acatl even liked him, never mind what the man was risking—his position, his very life—by allowing Teomitl onto his mat. And yet he did. Yet he slid his arms around him, holding him through the night. Yet he kept him safe, just as he did the eggshell-thin boundaries of the Fifth World. “...I love you,” he whispered.

Acatl kissed him again. “I love you too. Never doubt that.”

“...Even when you want to strangle me?”

He huffed a laugh. “Even then.”

Teomitl was still smiling when he fell asleep.