Tea & Paperwork

On Edge

Wriothesely seems a little on edge, and it's because he's got a plug stowed away.

CW: Contains Smut

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There is something off about Wriothesley.

Neuvillette cannot place a finger on it. They share a quiet moment in his home after a long day of work as they often do. Wriothesley drinks tea as he usually does, only his face is flushed pink and his hands shake slightly, the porcelain of his cup clinking against the saucer. Neuvillette doesn't mention it in favor of further observation.

Puzzling. But that's the gist of it, isn't it? Wriothesley is nothing but a puzzle at times, and Neuvillette has found that he enjoys trying to piece him together.

So. Flushed cheeks. The way that he wriggles slightly in the seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs over and over. ...Nervous? No, no, not nervous; never around Neuvillette and never over something like this.

"As I was saying," says Wriothesley as he sets his teacup on the desk. "Sigewinne—" He pauses and shifts slightly in the chair with a soft hiss.

And then Neuvillette smells it. Bergamot and cream underlined with the spice of Wriothesley's arousal. Oh. Neuvillette tilts his head, his expression morphing into something draconian as he watches him through narrowly slit eyes. "Wriothesley." His fingers curl around Wriothesley's wrist gently, his thumb rubbing across the bone there. "Are you alright?"

Wriothesley's throat bobs. "Totally fine."

"Are you?"

"Sweetheart—"

"You smell..." Neuvillette tugs at him, pulling Wriothesley from his chair. Wriothesley goes easily, settling over his lap without complaint. Neuvillette wastes no time shoving his face against Wriothesley's nape, inhaling that mouth-watering scent that he's come to love.

"So, funny thing—"

"If you needed me, you could have asked."

Wriothesley laughs. "Where's the fun in that?"

Neuvillette kisses the apple of his throat. "Are you having fun? You seem... distressed." A little. On edge. And that's something that Wriothesley likes on occasion, being edged until he can no longer think. But Neuvillette would prefer to do something about it.

"I'm definitely not distressed."

"So, needy, then?" Neuvillette's hand presses against Wriothesley's waist, squeezing the meat of it. He pulls his hips down, groaning as the bulge of Wriothesley's erection grinds against his own.

"Yeah."

"Aroused?"

Wriothesley hums, cupping Neuvillette's cheeks, and pulls his face back to look at him. "When around you? Always."

The skin around Neuvillette's eyes crinkles as he smiles, soft and genuine, a look reserved for him alone. "Beloved," he says, his hand sliding around to palm at Wriothesley's ass. "When you say things like that—"

"It's with very specific intent." Wriothesley chuckles, combing his fingers through Neuvillette's hair.

Oh, he knows. Wriothesley is not an easy man to read, prone to donning a careful facade. It's crumbled over time in Neuvillette's presence, leaving behind a raw-cut gem that only he gets to see. Neuvillette tilts his face up and Wriothesley kisses him, effortlessly in tune with each other.

They move lazily, nothing but lingering tongues and wandering hands. Wriothesley is draped across his lap unceremoniously. Neuvillette laughs into his mouth, tongue tracing his teeth before dipping deeper. He pulls Wriothesley's shirt from the waistband of his trousers, hand slipping underneath to tease the skin there. Then down, dipping into the fabric, claws sinking into the soft flesh of Wriothesley's ass.

"Who's the needy one now?" Wriothesley tugs at a lock of Neuvillette's hair.

Neuvillette nips at his mouth. "What was it you said earlier? Always." His fingers dip into the cleft of Wriothesley's ass, only to pause. Wriothesley stills as well. Neuvillette nuzzles the edge of his jaw and asks, "Have you been wearing this all day?"

His fingers trace the solid edge of the plug that's shoved into Wriothesley's ass. It is a favorite toy of theirs; nothing imposing, just a bulb large enough to fill and rest against Wriothesley's prostate. This must be the source of his assumed distress.

Wriothesley's mouth falls near Neuvillette's ear. He kisses the pointed tip and says, "Remember the last time we played with this? You said—"

"A pitiful attempt at dirty talk, I promise you," cuts in Neuvillette dryly. As far as he's concerned, what is said in the bed should stay in bed—but Wriothesley had other ideas.

"It was fun wearing it. All I've thought about the entire day has been your cock."

Neuvillette tugs at the plug. "Oh? Tell me more?" Wriothesley's rim clenches around the stem of the toy as Neuvillette's fingers smooth over his loose and puffy hole.

"I...fuck. Okay, yeah, just." Wriothesley's fingers curl into Neuvillette's braid, mussing it. His cock is hard against Neuvillette's thigh, trapped by his trousers. It must ache. Wriothesley ruts against him, dragging his erection across Neuvillette's leg. "I've been half-hard all day," Wriothesley finally says, his breath hot against the shell of Neuvillette's ear. "I had to hide behind my desk, grinding the heel of my palm against it, but I was still good. I didn't—" He groans, as Neuvillette toys with the plug.

"Sweet boy," says Neuvillette, tilting his face to kiss Wriothesley's temple. "You didn't come?"

"Didn't want to," mutters Wriothesley, cupping his face again. "Not without you there."

What a darling thing. Neuvillette can't help the heat that spreads through his chest. He ignores his own aching cock in favor of letting Wriothesley chase his own pleasure, drunk at the sight of him finally taking what he needs. Wriothesley smells and feels divine. "Go on then," says Neuvillette, pressing against the plug, grinding it deeper.

Wriothesley moans, rolling his hips, frotting against his leg. His arms lock tightly around Neuvillette's neck as he fucks back against the toy. So desperate. Neuvillette kisses him again, this time hungrily as Wriothesley rides his thigh.

It doesn't take long; Wriothesley comes a moment later, gasping Neuvillette's name. Makes a mess of his trousers. Neuvillette feels the way his hole tightens around the plug, milking it. "Perfect," he says, kissing Wriothesley's brow, his nose, and then his mouth, swallowing those moans as Wriothesley sinks into the high of his orgasm.

Wriothesley paws at Neuvillettes trousers, fingers tangling in the fastenings. "Off," he mutters. "Off."

Half of their clothing is shucked away haphazardly, tossed to the floor and hanging off limbs. Neuvillette tugs the plug and throws it to the side, replacing it with Hydro-slicked fingers. Wriothesley groans as they sink in and test how ready he is. Hot and tight. Perfect for his cock. Neuvillette mouths at Wriothesley's neck, marking up the skin there. Pinpricks of teeth and claws dragging over his skin—Neuvillette nearly crumbles when Wriothesley finally gets a hand on his cock for a quick stroke.

"Hardly the place for this," muses Neuvillette, guiding his hips until the tip of his cock kisses Wriothesley's hole.

"Don't care," says Wriothesley, dropping against him, sinking onto Neuvillette's cock in one easy glide.

All thoughts are lost as Neuvillette sinks his teeth into the skin that peeks out from Wriothesley's shirt collar. He doesn't care either, he thinks, as he's lost to the heat of his lover against him.