[ P ] The ballad of carrion birds and drakes

Sipping wine, the major absentmindedly gazed out the window of his office. Although the night concealed the courtyard well, he could tell the exact spots where the patrolling soldiers might be found at at this time, assuming they were are carrying out their duties flawlessly. Testing that was not on his mind tonight, however. The messenger birds have been busy as of late, carrying strange news of ships and a new land.. among other things. It had little to do with his post on the border, but it was nonetheless prudent to stay up to date on the current happenings.

“I’ve heard the communication network in the capital has suffered quite the disruption.” he mused, glancing towards his bed and the wolf who occupied it. Bastien’s increasingly frequent company was most welcome, even in silence while Nicharion was busy processing and planning everything his job required... and, facetiously, even when the black and white male distracted him by failing to adhere to aforementioned silence during his working hours. But at this point, the rest of the night was theirs to do with as as they wished. “Perhaps you’ve witnessed it? Must’ve been entertaining; it’s hard to imagine who and why would do such a thing...” His lips curled upwards in a smirk, betraying his suspicions. But he could only hazard such a guess knowing his lover had been to Rionna at a coinciding time..

Crows are known as omens of misfortune, after all.. and trouble often seems to follow this one around.

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Bastien was happier than he’d ever been. He might have even stayed that way, were it not for the topic Nicharion chose to broach. “I can’t see how that would be worth anyone’s time.” Normally, a spectacle of such clever creativity would delight him… the monumental mistake it turned out to be eviscerated his good mood, and his flat tone was only the first indication. The beast liked to think he concealed his emotions rather well—ignoring all the evidence that pointed to the contrary—but the rapidly increasing frequency of his flicking tail and the breaths he held onto until they burned through his nostrils weren’t subtle enough to avoid betraying him.

Unwittingly, Nicharion invited a ghost into the room, and Bastien could sense that the space was shrinking, inch by agonizing inch. He wanted nothing more than to escape before he’s boxed in, but doing so risked exhuming what was best kept buried. So instead of leaving, when he abandoned the bed and its comforts, Bastien prowled the short distance to the desk to plunge his muzzle into the fur of his lover’s neck and roughly drag it across his skin. “I was thinking about taking a walk to stretch my legs, but I could think of other ways to loosen up, since it appears you no longer have anything to preoccupy you.”

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Nicharion had expected his lover to brag about his exploits, the uncharacteristic dismissal of the subject that he received instead could only mean that whatever Bastien had intended didn’t go as planned. Extremely easy to see through, yet the dilemma it placed before the soldier was anything but. To press for details or not... he wanted to keep on closing the distance, to know the finer details of the monochrome male’s life, to provide anything he might need. And yet, if it were him who didn’t want to talk about something, no amount of good intentions could protect his mood from insistent inquiries.

The other male acted more quickly than he could find an answer, approaching with sultry intent. His rough caress over Nicharion’s neck was an overwhelming reminder of the tension in his shoulder caused by long working hours, and the sweet release he could find in his lover’s embrace... Before he could stop himself he leaned back, tilting his head away to invite further advances on his neck as an approving rumble escaped his throat... a moment of weakness, but he willed himself to focus. “I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said..” His voice trailed off with no elaboration, silently urging the other not to stop in his tracks while he takes his time getting to the point.

“And that I ought to offer you means to fend off boredom that aren’t beholden to my free time. After all, I’ve cost you work opportunities.” With his goal now within a wayward guess’ reach, the red brute decided to turn up the heat. Twisting sideways, he pushed his seat away and pulled Bastien in, aiming to pin the male down on the floor. “I want- I need you close..” His teeth sought the scar on Bastien’s neck, scratching its uneven surface while his breath grew increasingly unsteady. He pressed down with more of his weight, pushing their bodies ever closer. “Join the army. Join me.” He’d only meant to ask, but the intensity of his addiction overtook his intentions, twisting them into a wanton demand

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Just a little tilt, that's all he needed to press his advances further... and his lover acquiesced, canting his head just so that Bastien's nose could scour it with renewed interest, feeling the skin warble as his lungs dragged a low croon through them. Nicharion saw fit to start a sentence that made his ears flick forward, capturing the words even as his careful canvas of his partner's skin refused to cease, but eventually it did cease, pausing to pull back and offer a skeptical narrowing of his eyes.

He wasn't given any time to consider where this might be leading before he's pushed into a supine position. His breath shuddered, just as aroused by the reversal as he was startled by it. I want- I need you close.. Words that, while carried in every touch and obsessive glance, his soul needed to hear in order to solidify their intent and existence. Bastien sighed his immense pleasure, then, for the second time, fixated his unwavering attention as Nicharion posed a solution he didn't know he'd been aching for.

Join the army. Join me.

"I..." He started, then stopped. Every fiber that stitched him together pulled in the same tireless direction... all but one. The thread that connected him to the highlands, to Vela, pulled with a strength that unraveled him. "I want to... but I have one condition," Bastien's red eyes fixed upon his lover's face, a face he'd come to love, against all odds, almost as much as he loved the daughter he'd sworn to protect. "It will not interfere with my returning to the Highlands. I don't care how we have to excuse it, but I can't just up and leave, not completely." Not when Vela looked at him with such longing after his absences took him abroad, not when he still couldn't explain to her what reasons could possibly sweep him away. "I'll always have two worlds I must exist in. Until I can eliminate the threats to her safety, I'll be torn in both directions."

He could only hope that that was good enough.

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One a base, instinctual level, the hungry beast in him expected complete compliance. When it was not given, he held his breath, silently processing the disruption to his flow.. and he accepted it, almost with relief. There was enough greed in him to dare to desire full control over Bastien’s life in the heat of the moment, but Nicharion knew himself well enough to be aware that such power would quickly lose its luster. His precious bird’s individuality was the spice of life, and any prize is sweeter when it’s not won too easily.

...that said, Bastien’s condition really wasn’t much of a concession on his part, to the point that the red brute had to resist the urge to snicker when he lifted his jaws from the other’s neck. “You shouldn’t have asked that.” he stated as ominously as he could manage, before flicking his tongue at the tip of Bastien’s nose to immediately defuse the situation. “I wouldn’t have thought to stop you either way, birdie.” There was more to unpack here, such as.. in a world like theirs, what is eliminating all threats if not a futile, hopeless task? But he didn’t want to dampen the mood with such dilemmas. Not when his tail was thumping against the floor with excitement, as it became apparent to the less lust-addled parts of his brain that they will be able to spend more time together, more easily.

“I’ll need some time to set things up. And you will want to go get your things, I imagine.” Although Nicharion had plenty of work to distract him during Bastien’s absence, each day of it was nonetheless difficult to bear. All the more reason to make good use of the time they have here and now. “In the meantime...” A smirk bloomed on his lips in tandem with an idea taking root in his mind. He leaned down once more, this time locking his teeth on one of Crow’s ears. “I’ve noticed you staring at me multiple times, soldier. Do we have a problem?” His voice rumbled with a growly undertone, adding a pinch of intimidation to the question. Yes, in the meantime.. they could play.

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The first indication that he was being fucked with was easily missed, the distress building in Bastien narrowing his acute senses—and his eyes. Looking back, it's laughable how long that moment felt, and he'd still assert that a single second possesses more time within it than the anxious mind can perceive. But, in the present, he was agonized waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ultimately, the fight was over before it began, and the second sign was impossible to overlook when it was, quite literally, in front of and on his face. His nose wrinkled, a little distastefully at the joke being played at his expense, while his body simultaneously became pliant under his paramour's paws, though his gaze was still sharp enough to cut. "Were you aware that you're an asshole?" he asked rhetorically. It was difficult to maintain composure, though, when the elation he sensed in Nicharion became an audible thump, thump, thump he could feel through the tiles.

At least shedding one skin and donning another came naturally to Bastien. The tension easing from his body made it easier for the crimson-eyed crow to adjust accordingly to the new form of an old game that was presenting itself. "Aye, sir, a big problem in fact." He jerked his chin up and his ear away, an act that was overtly defiant, but the suddenly capricious strokes of his tail against the red male's thigh were anything but. "See, sir, they says yer the one takin' care 'a problems. An' says that I need some co'ection. I'm jes' thinkin' I got me wires crossed some ways, 'cuz all I gots now is a 'rection. Less... I 'eard 'em right?" His muzzle dared to close in, unsheathing a fang to scratch it along the other man's jaw. "Jes' hopin' I ain't too big o' a problem fer ya... sir."

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Perhaps Nicharion felt the faintest bit of remorse for teasing the other man in this manner, but the entertainment factor was too strong of a temptation to resist. “Isn’t that one of the things you like about me?” he grinned smugly, clearly unperturbed by the accusation. There was some benefit to it, or so he believed. Assertions of good will are seldom convincing to the cynical mind; if he had to be a little mean instead to prove such trivial issues couldn’t drive a wedge between them, then he will do so gladly.

When it came to games, the clever bird never failed to deliver. “Indeed, that’s a ‘problem’ I could look into.” Nicharion’s grin grew proportionally to his climbing heart rate, stoked by the effortless execution of role, lewd imagery and fleeting touches. If he allowed himself to be selfish, he could discard all thought and descent into a lustful frenzy right then and there... “However...” That simply wouldn’t do. He had to reward this performance with his best effort, one that will have them both seeing stars before long.

With slow, deliberate movement, he put one of his paws on Bastien’s chin. It seemed like nothing but a simple caress, until he started to push, forcing the other male’s head back and his muzzle shut. “You forget your place, cur.” He didn’t need to raise his voice in order to drive the point. Rather than anger, it relied on cold, unyielding authority. “You rest, when I tell you. You fight, when I tell you.” His other paw moved to glide a nail over his lover’s taunt throat, first in a straight line, then tracing the edge of his scar. “And...” He leaned closer so the warmth of his breath could fully tease Crow’s ear, the tone of his voice shifted to one making a sweet promise. “You will blow your load when I tell you. Not before.”

Nicharion withdrew his paws, unwilling to make the other uncomfortable for too long, but he wasn’t going to give him long to start guessing what’s next, either. “First, let’s see if you’re even worth my time with how you handle my ‘problem’.” The red brute pulled himself forward, giving his lover a clear view with even clearer intentions as he seated himself on his chest. A cocky smirk graced his muzzle once more as he issued one more command to get them started.

“Get lickin’, soldier.”

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