redamancy ❣︎ ghost fics & drabbles

kinktober day seven: gags (copia x aether)

!! handjobs, gags, use of quintessence magick

Copia's chest heaves as he stumbles through the door of his dressing room, the energy of the show still crackling through his veins and humming just under his skin. His hands shake as he throws off his vest and begins to undo the obsidian buttons of his shirt, his fingers jumping over the seams and missing the holes. The woozy cocktail of adrenaline from a great performance and lively crowd rarely makes him this restless anymore, but tonight had been the best stop on their tour thus far, and he can't help but bask in the lingering spotlight that he still feels the warmth of on his face. Even after the fall of the curtain and the dimming of the stage lights, the energy he feels refuses to go anywhere but south, and it's not necessarily that he's agitated with it, but his pants are a little too tight and the sweat clinging to his skin is only making the desire to strip more intense. It's unfortunate how his body and his brain battle for such relief. A low growl escapes his throat as he works on loosening the knot in his tie, pacing back and forth like a caged animal instead of the resplendent Papa Emeritus IV.

He's so focused on getting his boots off after loosening the tie around his neck that he fails to hear the door creak open behind him, but he sure feels the presence that slips into the space. The new crackle of static that weaves its way through the hair on his arms tells him enough, and the ghoul steps in quietly, closing the door behind him and watching the electrified state that his Papa is still in. A knowing smile slips onto his face and he begins to stalk closer.

"Looks like someone's still riding the high," the ghoul murmurs, and Copia casts a glance over his shoulder, kicking his shoes off in the general direction of his wardrobe.

"We haven't had a show like that in months. My ghoul, tell me you felt it too," he tenses slightly when the feeling of a strong hand covers his shoulder, but quickly recovers. That static energy seems to constantly radiate from Aether like a beacon and he feels it caress the skin beneath his ear like an invitation. "If my old bones weren't already beginning to ache, I'd tell you to go grab your instrument for a second encore. Perhaps even a third."

Aether chuckles, and a deep rumbling purr kicks up in his chest when Copia reaches up to lay a hand atop the ghoulish one on his shoulder.

"You know I can help you with the aching, Papa," he says, "you only need to ask."

"It's good to let them ache. Keeps me young."

The ghoul laughs again at his Papa's slip of humor and presses the palm of his hand against the hard bone of his shoulder, teasing a trickle of his magick through his skin. He knows that his Papa will never ask anything of him, but he also knows when he needs it. The magick sinks into his muscles and Aether allows his Papa to sink into the front of his chest with a pleased hum. He supports him with a strong arm across his tummy, but then that hand begins to descend down towards the ties at the front of his pants. He teases the knot there. "Shall we free you from these horrible restraints? Work off some of this tension?"

"You're good to your Papa, do you know this?" Copia breathes out when Aether pulls at the strings and releases his cock from behind the sweaty fabric. Drunk on a taste of Quintessence magick, he covers the hand around his shaft with his own, tightening the fingers around the base and letting out the most gorgeous moan that Aether has ever heard fall past his painted lips.

A couple of stagehands cease their conversation somewhere out in the hall and the ghoul pauses, testing the sensitivity of his Papa's hardened cock with a long, slow pull towards his tip. He groans again, louder this time, and someone outside makes an awkward noise.

"Quiet, Papa," he warns and thumbs at the slit, careful to avoid raking his blunt claws over the head, "we need to keep you quiet lest you desire to be the talk of the crew tomorrow."

Another dull pulse of magick flows from his hand, causing the air around them to pulse with a palpable charge, and Copia jerks his hips forward into his fist, a blurt of pre leaking from the tip along with it.

Aether can't just leave him like this now, he has to help his Papa, he has to be good, so he spins him around and pushes him gently against the wall of the dressing room, descending on him with a hand on his cock, the other on the back of his skull to keep the magick flowing, and Copia folds to his touch.

"Shh," the ghoul warns again and glances towards the door. The latch is still very much unlocked. It's a risky thing to do. Copia fails to comply, his gasps and groans growing louder and more persistent with every slight touch to his dick.

Before he can protest, the ghoul is grabbing the discarded tie from around his neck and stuffing it into his mouth. The noise that fights through is muffled. Nice and quiet.

"If you're going to make noise, you'll have to keep this between your teeth," he explains with an experimental twist of his wrist. Copia's mismatched eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull, but the moan that accompanies it is manageable, stuffed to the back of his throat. The crew outside continue their conversations and begin to wheel a part of their background towards the bus. Aether begins to stroke him properly from root to tip, and his Papa bucks forward at the hips, chasing him with each pull.

He holds him against his chest for a while, pulling at his cock while the magick in his vessel soaks into his sore muscles, and all the while he talks his Papa through his well-needed pleasure.

"You deserve this," he tells him while he wraps his fist around the ruddy head, "you were amazing tonight, Papa. A real star. Imperator will be proud."

He tightens his grip slightly, just enough to make him groan and gasp from behind silky fabric, twisting his wrist to send shocks of pleasure straight through him to saddle up right beside that adrenaline and magical buzz. Copia's breath stutters, his heavy head falling back onto Aether's shoulder as the ghoul's hand works with perfect, practiced rhythm, stroking him faster now and with a perfect pressure that he knows he likes. The warmth of Aether's Quintessence pulses deeper, easing the ache in his bones, but it's the way his fist drags along the length of his cock that really makes his muscles tremble.

"That's it, Papa, just let go," Aether whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck that still smells sweetly of intoxicating human sweat. The steady pull on his cock is relentless, and his fingers spread slick globs of pre over his skin as he works him towards the inevitable finale to his grandiose performance.

Copia groans from behind fabric, the pleasure building too fast, too intense for what his old body is used to, and his hands grip Aether's arm in an attempt to steady himself while his hips jerk forward in uneven movements, chasing a release that's so close he can taste it.

Aether presses his palm firmly against the base of his shaft to draw out the final moments, and a pulse of his magick slips through his fingers, right into the shaft of his cock, and Copia nearly doubles over with the feeling of it directly in his balls. When the gag begins to slip, he covers his mouth with his hand.

"Cum, Papa. You deserve it. Cum for me. For all of us. For everyone out there tonight."

His brow furrows and his teeth dig into the tie at the sound of Aether's voice, velvet-like and coaxing, and when Copia moans in response, Aether squeezes and pumps him harder, faster.

His Papa shudders, release tearing through his weary body, and with a final muffled gasp, the final encore of the night reaches its grand crescendo.