Ekleipsis (Fantasy Romance - LGBT, manXman)

6.2

But, in the moment it had taken the door to shut, Alva could not have thought all this. He only noticed that dusk had fallen outside. Then, in the next room, something clanked; it had to be Kintaro hanging his sword and dagger up on the wall. The Essanti revered their weapons. Alva would not have been surprised if he caught Kintaro kissing the blade or something, but he would have been flabbergasted if he ever saw Kintaro carelessly toss his sword on the floor. Not that the barbarian took care about anything else. Even now, he seemed to have tossed his dirty boots right in the middle of the room, and it has not been that long since Alva had personally swept the floors there.

Dear God, Ahayrre, aren't you becoming a housewife, he chuckled to himself.

Meanwhile, Kintaro padded into the kitchen. Now he was going to shove one hand into whatever Ithildin was cooking, and use the other to grope the elf any way he could, while the elf fought him off with a ladle...

The noise of dishes breaking, scuffling and Ithildin's yelps came from the kitchen. Same old, same old. Except they have not broken dishes before. Those two were positively insufferable. They did not seem to tire of playing at rape every single time. Couple of mummers! Alva tried to concentrate on the last stanza, but a low moan distracted him completely. Chevalier crept up to the kitchen door and peeked in.

If he had really been a maiden, the sight would have made his panties soaking wet. But he was no maiden (whatever the neighbors who saw him dolled-up up as a woman might have thought) so all he got was an erection. It was hard to say which of the actors looked more exciting. Especially since Chevalier Ahayrre had been in either's place before.

...Kintaro's buttocks pumping wildly, flexing with every push that shakes the oak kitchen table; Ithildin's leg thrown over the barbarian's shoulder, his other leg wrapped around Kintaro's waist, so white against the swarthy back and the flowing black braid. Entwined as closely as their position allows, they gasp and cry out together, and Ithildin writhes clutching the edge of the table, trying to meld into Kintaro. The barbarian's jacket is on the floor, but his pants never got taken off and are hanging around his ankles. As for Ithildin, the savage never even bothered undressing him, just tossed him on the table in his robe, and the elf's white shoulders and hips are bathed in shiny silk.

Oh, dear God Almighty, but how delectable they look! Two bodies − two kinds of sugar, white and burnt − and Alva between the two of them like the licking flame that caramelizes the sweet... god is their baker, deft and light-fingered, who moulds together these three destinies so unlike one another.

"White-delight," "burn-yearn ..." Rhymes filled Alva's head like glimmering fish, and were gone instantly, chased off by the delicate fingers that opened his pants and the tender mouth that was on him without delay. Then there were the strong hands, bending Alva over the table, the black braid sliding against his back, and a light ringing in his ears when it was all over. And then − grilled duck flavored with the pungent Arislani herbs, love-filled silver eyes looking at Alva, and the rumbling voice that made warmth spread through Alva's veins. And so, again, he failed to ask Kintaro the question that has been bothering him for a long time now.

Except, he was not entirely sure what the question would be. "Who's the prick teaser, chief?" Because that's exactly what he thought was happening. When Kintaro came home, he totally ran amok. First, he'd fling himself on Ithildin. Of course, since he was no frail human and did not require gentle handling. No need to bother with lubricant, kissing or foreplay. The first flush of lust sated, Kintaro would get on to Alva, and only then would he regain the capacity of human speech, and cease acting like a rutting beast ready to hump any available hole.

It all started when they got to Iskenderun, the capital of Arislan, and rented a pleasant roomy house in Zeinab Street. No, perhaps a little later − when Kintaro began his service as a palace guard. If you put together everything that Alva had heard about the Arislanian mores, and what with the wanton barbarian ways... no wonder that, after a day at the palace, Kintaro had a bad case of sperm poisoning.

Alva had not been to Arislan before, but he knew a great many things that you wouldn't find in any book. Some of this knowledge, however, he chose to conceal. It was acquired in a somewhat unusual way, you might say.