Dead Dove (Do Not Eat) [ZhongChi]

Dendrophilia

"We brought him, Boss." 

Al-Haitham felt his face smash into the dirt. Falling for drinking the beverage brought to him was the oldest trick in the book but he just couldn't pass up a good cup of tea. What were they bringing him for this time? Did he rub someone the wrong way with his speech again? Impossible to tell. 

"Yeah, yeah," the voice didn't seem to care one way or the other. All Al-Haitham could see of him was his feet. Severely muddy shoes and the edges of a tattoo poking out from between his shoe and the bottom of his pants. "Let him go already. He is tied up what more can he do?" 

"But, Boss..." 

"Are you sure? The guy can go toe-to-toe with Morax." 

"Last I heard, all he wanted to do was fuck Morax so scurry off already," he made a motion with his foot. 

That same muddy shoe met with Al-Haitham's chin, pushing his face up. His hair was a bit in his eyes but he could see enough of this blonde man to get an idea of him. His button-up shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and his actual shirt was unbuttoned well past his chest. He was covered in tattoos and piercings with something of an undercut. 

"Interesting look in your eyes, mate." He glanced in the direction of the two idiots that scampered off, making sure they were gone, and then squatted in front of Al-Haitham. "I don't really have any interest in 'giving you a talking to' since you didn't do much to me personally," he shrugged, unbothered. "To be honest," he scratched his chin, "I don't think you did that much to Kusanali either. But seriously? Fucking in a hospital? Wild, my guy." 

He leaned over Al-Haitham in such a way that he didn't pay attention to the fact Al-Haitham could stare straight down his shirt. The goal was to untie him, and he did, but Al-Haitham was now left on the ground extremely confused. All he knew was that this stranger was affiliated with the archons in some way. 

"I really don't know why they put me in charge of this shit," he muttered, leaning further to get to Al-Haitham's ankles. "Cyno is a way better fighter. I'm more of a lover myself. Is it that tats? It's the tats, ain't it?" 

As soon as he was free, Al-Haitham grabbed the man's ankle to keep him from standing up and pushed him down onto the dirt. 

"Fahckin' hell." Either it was the lighting, or his cheeks were turning red. Al-Haitham couldn't be sure. "I'm starting to understand the Morax fascination," he muttered. "Do you know you smell like ferns?" 

"You do realize I can break all of the bones in your body," Al-Haitham spoke for the first time. The stranger blinked, not expecting his voice to sound like that, evidently. 

"Mate, I'll be honest, the only bone I want you to break for me is the one in my pants." 

There were a number of things running through Al-Haitham's head. First off, he completely understood the feeling of wanting to be dominated. Morax had that effect on him. Secondly, he had no idea that he would ever be in the same position for someone (being hot enough to want to be dominated by him, that is). He found his hand wandering to the stranger's pants and unbuttoned them to pull them down. Man, he was full of surprises. 

"You're wearing ferns?" he tilted his head a bit quizzically then took another look at the tattoos. All of them plant related in intricate patterns to one another. A few trees. A few ferns. A few flowers. Mostly green-oriented. Talk about touching grass, this guy wanted to fuck it. 

"Listen man, you can have your thing for snake-Morax-scary-boss-man, and I'll have mine for, uhm, trees...don't judge me," he closed his eyes tightly. 

"How did you even manage to get them to stay on you like this?" Al-Haitham, stricken by curiosity by now, found himself playing with the fern undergarment. He was ignorant of the fact that this wasn't helping the stranger's growing boner. 

"A bit of weaving, a bit of glue, willpower," he opened his eyes again, thoroughly flustered and not trying to hide it anymore. Not every day that you drugged a guy, brought him into the woods, and then found yourself attracted to him. Well, he didn't do any of the drugging personally, but still. 

"This now makes a bit more sense," Al-Haitham pulled open the stranger's shirt to look at his lingerie-esque-fern bra. 

"Your, uhm, shirt is a bit covered in dirt and..." he flinched every time a chunk fell off of Al-Haitham onto his bare chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, muttering: "Fuck man, why do you smell like ferns?"

"You must swoon over treants," Al-Haitham chuckled, grabbing his leg to pull it over his hip so the fern undergarment would directly touch the dirt-covered pants of his. 

"Please taunt me or fuck me or both, I don't really care, but I need something," he insisted. 

"Tell me your name then." 

"Kaveh." 

Al-Haitham grabbed Kaveh's arm to pull it over his shoulder and then picked him up, placing his back on the nearby tree. Kaveh shivered. The tree was old and covered in moss which made the bark soft and squishy. 

"I can't believe you're the first person to find out about this," Kaveh wanted to curl up into a ball and die. But not until after he was fucked by Mr. Fern Smelling Man. 

"You don't seem to be doing a very good job of hiding it," Al-Haitham replied, trailing his finger up his variously plant themed tattoo sleeve. He dropped Kaveh to his feet and turned him around, faceplanting him into the moss. Kaveh shivered again, this time from the cold of having his pants drop to the ground. Vine tattoo covered his legs and ass. 

"Well now," Al-Haitham moved his finger between the handmade undergarment to get a better look at the vines, "How'd you manage to get all of these and not get turned on?"

"Very carefully," Kaveh squeaked. Al-Haitham grabbed a bit of the moss and squeezed it over Kaveh's ass so the water would slide in the cracks and trail down his thighs. He yelped, shoving his face into the tree to hide it, hands clutching the bark tightly. 

"That's not going to be enough to-" Kaveh squealed again, Al-Haitham pressed against him after opening his own pants. His dick right in the thigh gap, making the ferns press closer to Kaveh and the rest of him pressing further into the moss. "Fuck," quietly blurted out. 

"You're right, it's not enough to be a lube," Al-Haitham placed his hand on Kaveh's neck, pushing his head back away from the tree to speak by his ear. "But, luckily for you, you'd prefer it this way, wouldn't you?" He shoved his dirt covered finger into Kaveh's mouth to prop it open. "Do you think those two idiots will hear your moans and think you're torturing me splendidly?" Kaveh's knees buckled as his eyes watered. The ferns rubbed his crotch raw as Al-Haitham fucked his thighs. He never thought himself a masochist until now. Was that why he got so many tattoos? 

"Nngh..." Kaveh couldn't hold onto the tree any longer for support and fell into it, or Al-Haitham's arm rather, since his mouth was still sucking his fingers. 

"You don't have a lot of cum in you," Al-Haitham glanced down, "you must touch yourself in the woods often." 

"It'snotlikedah," he tried to explain himself, so Al-Haitham removed his fingers. "It's not like that," he repeated, resting his cheek against the tree to glance at Al-Haitham. 

"So, you have a lover already then?" 

"Okay," he mewled, "so maybe it is like that," he closed his eyes tightly. 

"Unfortunately for you," Al-Haitham's cum splattered all over the tree and Kaveh's legs. "I've got a bit more left in me," he grabbed Kaveh's fern covered cock and gave it a squeeze. "Let's see if I can make you water the tree with your piss instead, hm?" Kaveh's dick twitched as he said that. 

"Oh fuck," he opened his eyes again but showed no signs of refusing.