Saul wants something more; Detrich obliges (NSFW)

[guardiansverse]

The rock, when Saul pulled himself back out to sit on it, was warm against his skin with afternoon sunlight. He swept waterlogged bangs out of his eyes, reached for his folded trousers and found himself holding idly onto the belt, his body alive and mind slowed by the swim, the sun. He watched Detrich finish squeezing out his hair as best he could. It remained damp and heavy and black as the dead of night, spread about his strong shoulders. Droplets clung to the straight, hard lines of his chest, the fine dusting of hair over glistening copper skin. In this light even his scars looked oddly tantalizing - a man's scars, where he had shed blood and survived, and no doubt claimed blood in return. Saul glanced down his own body. Not weak, certainly, but still finding its own shape. The paler olive of his own chest still mostly bare, something about his limbs awkward... he looked over at Detrich again, his supple grace stretching in the sun. Someday. This was Hyem. Saul would grow, and...

He didn't know if he'd be that graceful, though. That achingly fine, as Detrich was...

Something in the pit of his stomach stirred, not unpleasantly. He looked dwon at his own response with a start. He must have made some dismayed sound, because instantly Detrich was looking as well.

Saul nearly threw himself into the millpond. But Detrich only smirked.

"Marvelous, the way young bodies recover."

On pure furious instinct, Saul moved to shove him into the water instead. But that brought his hands to brush that fine, firm chest, and his blood couldn't seem to decide which end of his body to rush to first, higher or lower, and he was dizzy and twitching. Detrich hadn't even moved to deny him the touch; only sat there, glistening and grinning. One hand lay idly in his lap, but was nowhere near concealing anything there. Wet and clinging, his smallclothes outlined the shape of his cock at half-mast.

His words came back to Saul loud and clear. Be ashamed? I refuse.

Saul gritted his teeth, even as his own crotch throbbed hard at the sight. This was all good and well for some heretic Hyemi bastard, but he was an Easterner of Tezzei, and - and he was in Hyem, this was Hyem - he already knew that Detrich lay freely with Ander Kirschen, as though it was no matter at all, he wondered if the Land's Own would tell his lover about this - if they would laugh, or - that other thought was too much. He had to wipe that grin from Detrich's face before he burst.

Detrich had no shirt collar to grab. Instead Saul's hand caught the joining between his neck and shoulder as both of them leaned forward, across the gap between the stones. Detrich's mouth caught his. Hot as a furnace. He would've imagined as much.

Maybe he had.

He bit into the Land's Own's lower lip, and Detrich made a sound like a moan and like a laugh as blood came welling. Then he expertly tore Saul's grabbing hand off and twisted it behind his back, and in the ensuing frozen shock, closed his free hand about Saul's crotch, cock and balls, and all.

"Too fast, lad," he said, breathless through a red grin. "Discipline, remember. Patience."

He gaze a squeeze. Saul's every nerve fired at once.

It was his turn to moan, strangled as Detrich turned his wrist. His breath turned to stuttering gasps, snatched between thick swallows, little bursts of lightning climbing up from his stomach into his chest. It was impossible to think like this. Impossible to feel much else, either. His world narrowed to the hard, uneven thrusting of his own hips against that wide, firm hand, and Detrich muttering low in his ear -

"Want this, do you? You're only a boy. With any other your age, I'd never think of it. But you, my soldier lad - you may have this."

Saul thought, Please!, and snarled, "Give me - !"

With a sharp exhale, Detrich pushed out the heel of his palm - just once - Saul's eyes rolled back before he could breathe out another word. His back arched with tearing force, in a heaving, spurting climax, the back of his head hitting hard against Detrich's shoulder.

When he could see again, all he saw was the expanse of blue sky, and the dark fall of Detrich's hair over his own cheek. The pounding blood all through his body was sinking into a heavy warmth, sublimely sweet, too sweet for anger or for shame. He found himself letting out a long sigh, a sound of deep contentment - a sound he barely knew could come from his own body.

With one, sharp chuckle, Detrich released his pinned arm - and all at once rolled him back into the water.

The sudden cold was a slap to the face. Saul gave a wordless shout, instantly ablaze all over again - but the Land's Own was still holding his wrist, keeping him at the surface with no need for him to much move his sated body. He glared up nonetheless, fuming. Detrich looked back wryly amused. A normal look, altogether, Saul may never have known - but for the telling flush lighting the copper of his skin, the darkness swallowing the blue in his eyes.

Saul swallowed. "Too fast?"

"Hm." Detrich's eyes glinted in the warm sun. "I suppose you'll have to practice."