Title: tight fit
Rating: E
Fandom: even if TEMPEST
Relationship: Crius Castlerock/Tyril I Lister
Wordcount: 2789
Short summary: Crius and Tyril have joined Anastasia and Zenn on a trip to Rizoh, but because Crius booked his and Tyril’s room at the inn last minute, said room is tiny with only one bed.
“Cas, really?”
“Sorry…”
When the innkeeper said the room would be small, he probably should have said tiny. There’s barely space around the bed, a bed that was really meant for a single person. Crius wonders if this had been a storage room hastily turned into a guestroom in order to earn a bit more coin. Well, it doesn’t really matter when there aren’t any other rooms available, not here or at any other inn nearby.
“If I had known…” Tyril grumbles as he shucks off his boots and starts to unbutton his outer coat. “It’s your fault for telling me last minute.”
Crius, who is also working on removing his own coat, gives Tyril a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know if I could get the time off.”
“And you didn’t want me to join Red-head’s trip without you being present?”
Tyril, of course, speaks rhetorically. Anastasia had told Crius about her and Zenn’s trip to Rizoh, with an open invitation for others to join, a week ahead of time but Crius… Crius was guilty of not relaying it until a few days later. Because he already knew Lucien wouldn’t be able to go due to the current visit by Rizoh politicians, and that Tyril would be able to go due to his saved up free days. And the idea of Tyril being the third wheel to Anastasia and Zenn’s trip… No, he had been more worried about…
“You were going to be lonely without me?” Tyril prompts after Crius doesn’t reply immediately.
“…Yes.” That is easier to admit than the truth, that Crius is possessive and worries about Tyril being with two people who are better than him.
“Damnit.” Tyril looks away but it’s not fast enough to hide his flushed cheeks. Perhaps he had been expecting Crius to respond with denial, to keep up the pretense that they are just friends who sometimes do more together instead of in this “more than friends but not quite lovers” situation.
“Tyr?” But Tyril ignores him to focus on stripping out of his coat. Crius decides to follow suit, flinging his coat on top of Tyril’s. He then sits back down on the bed, right next to Tyril, even if Tyril still doesn’t look at him.
“Tyr, is this alright?” Crius reaches out with his right hand, placing it on top of Tyril’s left.
“Not that we can fit any other way on this bed.” Tyril grumbles, still looking away, but he turns his hand so their fingers can intertwine better.
“Even if there was another way…” Crius reaches out with his left hand, guiding Tyril’s face towards his with his left index and middle fingers. “It’s been a while.”
Crius doesn’t need to say what he means; they both know. Tyril’s expression turns sour. “Not for you, Casanova”
“Damnit, Tyr.” Crius sighs and drops his fingers from Tyril’s face. He’s exasperated, really, at how much Tyril wants to drag him when he has shown so much vulnerability already. Yes, he had to attend a formal event and noble ladies had come over to flirt with him, but nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.
“You know that’s all for show.” The only one Crius has taken, in these past few years, has been…
Tyril holds Crius’ gaze for a moment longer before breaking into a laugh. “Yeah, in reality you’re lame and uncool.”
Now it’s Crius’ turn to glare. Just insult after insult… But Tyril smirks, unlinking their hands as he moves to straddle Crius’ hips. He places both of his hands on Crius’ shoulders and brings his mouth to Crius’ left ear.
“You didn’t have to book a room like this just for a fuck.”
Crius shivers. Well, that was bluntly stated but very easy to understand. He grabs Tyril’s waist with both hands.
“Can we, then.” As if he needs to ask politely. Now it’s his turn for payback.
“Hmm?” Tyril pretends he doesn’t understand, which means he wants Crius to use words. And Crius knows exactly what to say.
“Can we actually fuck tonight?” Crius brushes his mouth against Tyril’s jaw, squeezes Tyril’s waist firmly. “Or do you just want a hand?”
Tyril moans. “Fuck, Cas.”
Crius smirks as he sneaks his hands under Tyril’s waistband. “Hand or?”
“Fuck me, Cas.” And before Crius can get another word in, his mouth is sealed by Tyril’s in a demanding kiss.
Of course Crius only gives Tyril a few seconds of a head start before he responds, lips and tongue more than ready to convey feelings that he struggles to put into words. The feelings of want, need, possessiveness… Tyril feels similarly, or so Crius hopes. That each bruising kiss is equivalent to Tyril staking a claim on Crius. That they are signs of Tyril being jealous of noblewomen who can openly flirt with Crius, or of Anastasia who receives Crius’ kind and caring mentorship. That Tyril does need Crius…to be there, alive, nearby, and sometimes in bed together. Maybe he should do something more related to that, Crius thinks to himself as he pushes Tyril’s pants down those fine legs and cups Tyril’s ass.
“Cas, move.”
“Hmm?”
Crius doesn’t expect to be shoved backwards, but in mere seconds he is flat on his back, his hands slipping to the back of Tyril’s thighs.
“I can’t fucking undress you like that.”
Crius laughs. He hadn’t even noticed Tyril’s hands on his shirt, so wrapped up in what he was doing with his own hands. He would, one day, like to take it more slowly, though, and savor the feeling of being undressed, button by button, by Tyril’s capable hands.
“Oh, but you managed to get half of it unbuttoned.” And it is half untucked from his pants too.
Tyril glares. “Do you want to get your shirt dirty?”
Crius puts his hands up, a motion of surrender. “You’re right. We’re going to make a mess tonight.”
Tyril’s response is to tug at Crius’ shirt more roughly, nearly sending some buttons flying off. Crius chuckles. Losing a few buttons would be no big deal; he’d be covering up that shirt with his coat anyway.
“Off.”
“Alright.”
Crius sits up and allows Tyril to pull the shirt off his shoulders, down his arms. He expects Tyril to start on his pants next, but Tyril just pauses and stares.
“I know my chest is alluring but—”
“Oil. Do you have some?”
“In my coat pocket.” Crius reaches blindly behind…no wait, to the side would be better. It’s just barely out of reach. “Tyr, I’m going to…”
He trails off as Tyril has begun stripping off his own black shirt, revealing the defined abdominal muscles hidden underneath. Crius stares even if he knows those abs all too well, from the sparring they’ve done with weapons as well as in bed. Still, why deny himself the pleasure of enjoying such a nice sight, especially when basically every other moment Tyril is covered from head to toe?
“Stop staring,” Tyril grumbles once he deems Crius’ staring has gone on long enough, his shirt bunched up near his nipples. He moves aside, no longer straddling Crius’ lap, and faces the door now instead. “And take your pants off while you’re at it.”
Crius chuckles as he does what he is told to do, rolling sideways to reach for his coat. Maybe the other reason Tyril calls him a Casanova is the fact that he keeps oil in his coat pocket. But what would they do when there’s an opportunity like this? Crius may be okay with receiving some pain, but he doesn’t want to hurt Tyril, and his cock is, well…
After a few moments of fumbling with his right hand to undo his belt, Crius pulls down his pants and underwear far enough down to allow for his cock to spring up, ready for some attention. He then takes the bottle in hand, popping open the cap and pouring a generous amount of oil onto his left hand.
“Mmm, Tyr…” Crius mumbles the other man’s name as he puts his left hand on his cock. Oiling it up is much more enjoyable when Crius imagines Tyril riding it, imagines Tyril’s arched back and his open mouth as a moan spills from his lips…
“You gonna stop anytime soon?”
“Huh?” Crius blinks and realizes he’s done more than just oil up his cock; he’s worked his cock to half-mast. Leaving a naked Tyril to look at him with a scowl.
“Prep me or I’ll rub you out instead.”
“Got it. Wouldn’t want to miss out.” Crius scrambles to push Tyril flat down on the bed. Neither the mattress nor the bed frame moves much in response, which almost makes Crius laugh out loud. Well, tiny cheap room manages to have a hard, sturdy bed. That means they only need to worry about the volume of the sounds that may spill from their mouths.
Tyril’s grunts are captured by Crius’ mouth, grunts due to Crius’ finger breaching his hole. It’s always tight, suggesting that Tyril doesn’t stretch it out between their occasional, post-drinking fucks. Crius doesn’t want to know how he’d react if he found Tyril not tight. The idea of another man having Tyril like this…
“Fucking hurry up.”
Crius playfully nips Tyril’s bottom lip as he puts more oil on his left fingers. “Not in the mood for foreplay?”
Tyril hisses as two fingers now breach his hole. “We don’t have all night.”
“Unfortunately.” The idea of spending all night with Tyril in bed like this, taking his time to fuck Tyril, to exchange sloppy kisses, and then fuck again... But Anastasia and Zenn will be up in the morning, ready to explore the town’s markets, and with both Crius and Tyril already bad at mornings…
“I wouldn’t want to do it all night in a place like this anyway,” Tyril adds, quickly moving a hand to muffle a moan.
Crius smirks. “But a different place would be fine?”
Tyril flushes. “Shut up, Cas.”
“Noted.” That was certainly not a “no”. Maybe something…about doing this right here, right now, had led to an answer to a question Crius had never asked before. Never asked because he just…assumed he shouldn’t? This new information acts like a catalyst. Crius’ mind starts bubbling with all sorts of ideas, and it takes all his willpower to squirrel those thoughts away, to concentrate on stretching Tyril with a third finger inside. Well, he manages to tamp down almost all of his thoughts. One idea…maybe if he gets the courage, at some point, to invite Tyril for a proper overnight stay at his home, instead of just after a heavy bout of drinking at the pub…
“Will you put it in already?”
Oh, since Tyr asked politely… Crius really shouldn’t take more time or Tyril will get himself off on Crius’ fingers alone and then bitch about that for the rest of time. Crius withdraws his fingers, his eyes surveying the sight below him: the flush of Tyril’s pale skin, the rise and fall of Tyril’s chest, the legs spread apart but ready to clamp around Crius if necessary…
“Relax for me, Tyr.”
“Shut up.”
Crius puts his hands on Tyril’s thighs, gripping them firmly before thrusting his cock halfway into Tyril’s heat with one motion. Tyril’s eyes squeeze shut, his teeth biting his left hand. Crius waits a moment to make sure Tyril is okay, to adjust as necessary.
“More!”
Alright, no major adjustment needed. With a grunt Crius pushes the rest of the way in, until his cock is fully sheathed inside Tyril’s heat. Fuck it feels good, especially when Tyril’s hole clenches around his cock. He could linger in this position, if he didn’t already know that there would be more satisfaction to be had by thrusting in and out, for both him and Tyril.
“Tyr, I’m going to get s—"
“Are you going to fuck me for real already?”
Crius laughs. Well, so much for patience. “Since you asked so nicely.”
He sets a brutal pace, mostly because Tyril asks for it, although he too enjoys how Tyril grabs onto his shoulders roughly, like he is Tyril’s lifeline. There’s barely a moment of rest between thrusts, barely a moment to give Tyril’s cock a helping hand. Yet, or perhaps because Crius has found that sweet spot inside Tyril, Tyril’s cock comes to life. Not that Crius has much time to enjoy the sight; he doesn’t really see anything but Tyril’s face contorted in pleasure, his left hand muffling the sounds spilling from his mouth but unable to hide what is happening underneath.
“Cas…ahhh…”
Not much comes out of Tyril’s mouth for the next few minutes besides muffled moans and Crius’ name, meaning Crius is doing a proper job. As for Crius, he’s bitten down quite hard on his lower lip to try to keep from making too much noise himself. It’ll probably look swollen tomorrow, but it’s worth the tradeoff. To have Tyril underneath him like this, to fuck him like this and chase pleasure until they both come...
“I…ahhh…want…”
“Inside?” Crius slows his pace and takes Tyril’s cock firmly in hand, rubbing its tip. He can feel how close he is to orgasm, sense how close Tyril is as well. There is enough time to end things properly, to pull out if Tyril doesn’t want Crius to come inside him.
“…naked…”
“Hmm?” Crius thrusts in now at a new angle, delighting when Tyril’s entire body jolts, the hand covering his mouth slipping away. He knows he’s being a damn tease at the moment, asking Tyril a question while distracting him from answering it. “Yes, we’re naked…so?”
“Inside me…’s fine…fuck…”
Crius nearly folds Tyril in half as he moves in to kiss Tyril, his mouth taking the place of Tyril’s hand and swallowing Tyril’s sounds. Oh, in another time or place Crius would endeavor to see how loud he could make Tyril moan, would not hide his own loudness in response, but heavy kisses serve well enough tonight.
“Mmmmmm!”
And the feeling of experiencing Tyril reach his climax both through mouth and cock is rather nice as well. Crius spills inside Tyril right after, and for a moment everything goes white.
“Ooooph.”
When Crius comes back to his senses, he finds that his mouth has slid to slobber on Tyril’s right cheek, his hands have slid off from Tyril’s thighs onto the bedsheet, his chest has pressed flat against Tyril’s as well as has become covered with… It takes a concentrated effort to right his position, to pull away from Tyril’s body, but not before dropping a soft kiss on Tyril’s mouth.
“Ugh, Cas…”
“Ah…Tyr, let me…”
Crius gets up and looks for a small towel to wipe themselves off with. They’ll both need to shower in the morning, if not earlier, lest they meet up with Anastasia and Zenn stinking of sex. Not that Zenn is unaware but Anastasia… Best not to offend her.
Ah, no towel spotted, so a handkerchief will have to suffice. He uses one on himself, then nabs a second for Tyril. By the time he returns to Tyril, Tyril has already rolled onto his side, looking as if he’s ready to go to bed. Tomorrow for a shower then after all?
“Mmm…”
Crius can’t help the soft smile that graces his face as he cleans Tyril as best he can. Sometimes Tyril is really like a cat in human form. It makes Crius want to pet him. He tosses the dirty handkerchief aside before giving in to his urge to muss up Tyril’s hair.
“Nghh…”
Crius chuckles. He doesn’t want to leave. “I don’t feel like putting my clothes back on, if that’s okay?”
Tyril rolls his eyes. “You already know I prefer to sleep naked.”
“That’s right.” Crius lies down on the bed, facing Tyril. “Come closer. The bed’s too small otherwise.”
Tyril is already moving closer, his hands reaching out to touch Crius’ neck. “You better keep your hands away from my ass.”
“Waist okay then?”
“Sure, whatever.”
Crius muffles a laugh against Tyril’s hair before drawing back and pressing his lips there once more for a soft kiss. Crius would have wished Tyril a good night, but Tyril is already asleep, or at least pretending to be, so instead Crius closes his own eyes, tightens his hold a bit more around Tyril, and falls asleep as well thinking of nothing, really. Which honestly is the best way to go, all things considered.
(They’ll both have to scramble for a quick rinse in the morning, though, while Zenn serves as a distraction, but even if Crius had thought about that, he still wouldn’t have changed a thing tonight.)