formmusebox | for Dorian (makingmyway)

for Dorian (makingmyway)

Dark Orym AU

[The world has changed significantly in the months since the Apogee Solstice. The ceremony, the plans of Ludinus Da'leth had not gone exactly as expected. But they had, in the end, been successful enough. Predathos itself had not been fully released, not physically, but the very essence of it had been called down from Ruidus, broken out of its chains and left with only one choice of where to go.

Orym had been in the wrong place at the wrong time -- or perhaps the right -- an attempt at dislodging the obsidian-like orb that had been the Raven Queen's Champion, the Tempest's Lover. The machine had fired anyway, and for the halfling who had been caught straight in that beam, everything was pain and red.

When he woke, he hadn't been himself. Not entirely. He remembered everything, knew who he was, but he was something more now, something that hungered for so much more than Orym had ever desired. His own desires remained, though they'd been turned to near desperate obsessions. He would not lose anyone else that he loved in this absurd struggle; he would not allow it. It was that reflexive need brought on the bright and blinding flash of light that sent Bell's Hells and their allies scattering to the winds, teleported far enough away to be safe in a very broad sense of the word.

As the lights faded and the smoke cleared, as Ludinus and the rest realized what had happened, Orym had felt this new power course through him. And soon everyone came to know it. He'd killed Da'leth and Thull with little more than a glance. A swift death was more than they deserved for what they had been responsible for, what they'd done to Will and Derrig, what they'd tried to do to Laudna. From there, well, Paragon's Call and the Ruby Vanguard answered to him now. Orym, formerly of the Air Ashari, now of the Red Moon. Soon the world would answer to him, and this ridiculous play of gods and monsters would be over.

At his command, his forces have been trying to locate and bring back the rest of his friends. If he can keep them close, he can keep them safe. By now though, he knows that his friends have banded together to fight him. It stings, of course it stings, but he knows that they just don't understand. It doesn't change that he cares for them, and his people have been given strict instructions that while Bell's Hells and the Crown Keepers are to be fended off, they are not be irreparably harmed. They are dear and precious to Orym, and his anger while still quiet and subdued is lethal these days.

He misses his friends. Most nights he holds the sending stone and calls out to Dorian, just wanting to hear his voice, to know that he is safe. But there never seems to be an answer. It doesn't stop him, and most nights the words are simple. 'I hope you're okay, Dorian. I just want to hear your voice again. I miss it. I miss you.'

Today the skirmish that has broken out has been a violent one. Sometime during the fighting, Dorian seems to have been separated off, and the bard has taken a significant amount of damage. Maybe that's what has brought Orym actually out to the battlefield. He so seldom joins the fight these days, but this.

This requires his presence.

Dorian is here. Of everyone that he's wanted to see, the Air Genasi is the one who has had his heart aching the most, the feelings that he'd done so much to try to hide for Dorian's sake, no longer feeling that need to be hidden. Who else could protect him better than Orym? No one. He can give Dorian the world if he wants it, anything.

So when Orym slips in on the edges of the fray, when he sees one of his mages level a spell that sends Dorian sprawling to the ground, the halfling's voice rings out, stern and unyielding.]

Enough.

[He punctuates the words with a gesture towards the Paragon's Call member who had made the attack. A crimson hand appears and wraps itself around their throat, squeezing the life out of the solider slowly.]

You will not hurt him.

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[Predathos whispers a soothing assurance to Orym that this is fine, that they will protect this together, that nothing will be allowed to take Dorian for them. They can have this.

It will be fine.

Orym pours himself into that kiss, to swallowing down that pretty moan and urging Dorian back. His hands run up that bared chest, fingers exploring skin. So maybe it will be a bit of a surprise when it feels like there are also hands at the bard's hips, easing his trousers and underthings down those long, lithe legs. Those hands are entirely unseen, little pieces of the power that has become second nature to the halfling in such very short time.]

[ Dorian leans back at that gentle urging, until he’s lying on his back on the bed with Orym on top of him. His breath catches softly as those fingers brush over his chest, leaving a trail of heat in his skin in their wake.

But then there’s what feels like a second pair of hands loosening his pants, and he gasps, drawing back enough to try and look, but seeing nothing there he glances up at Orym in surprise. ]

Orym…?

[Orym looks down at him before his expression melts into a smile.]

Sorry, I was being impatient.

[He leans in to brush his nose along Dorian's, all affection, distraction perhaps from how big a change his casual use of magic is.]

Just a little magic, my love. Nothing to worry about.

[ He takes a breath, calming himself down a bit. It had been a bit surprising, especially given how little magic Orym had known before.

But that touch is certainly distracting, and as he nuzzles back he nods. ]

All right. I was just…not expecting that, is all. But I’m okay, really.

Good...

[Orym smiles at him, stealing a briefer kiss from his lips as his hand continues its path up Dorian's side, over that toned chest, fingers finding and toying with a nipple, teasing until they can feel the bud harden beneath his attention.]

You might even enjoy it... [And as if to emphasize, there's the feeling of an unseen hand trailing up Dorian's leg, up his inner thigh, skirting close but not quite touching his arousal.]

[ He shivers, his skin tingling as Orym’s hand trails across his body, and a soft mewling sound escapes him as those calloused fingers coax his nipple to hardness.

But the touch of that invisible hand cause him to jump slightly, and when it comes close to his arousal but doesn’t touch he moans needily. ]

O-Orym…

[The sounds that Dorian makes drive him wild, set what is already a burning desire into an outright inferno. Orym has always been so self contained, always so even-keeled and still, but there is nothing contained or still about him now.

And only so much of that can be blamed on this new presence inside him. So much of the cause is this desire that he has kept bottled up for far too long.]

I'm here...

[He promises. Unseen fingers continue their tease, but it's his own hand that wanders its way down to let his fingers slide along Dorian's cock, tracing the shape of him, wanting to learn this part of him as well, learn what else will draw such pretty sounds from the other man.]

[ Dorian whimpers when the ghostly hand still doesn’t touch him directly, but he gasps sharply when Orym finally does, and his hips jerk up into the touch. Lying completely naked under the halfling as he is, the thought of additional hands - magic or not - sends a rush of heat straight through him, his cock twitching at the idea of being so completely at Orym’s mercy.

And he wants it, wants to be that vulnerable to him. ]

P-Please…Please, Orym…

[Well, fuck. Orym has no real defense against this man. Here is his greatest weakness made flesh, because what would he not give to Dorian when he's pleading with him so sweetly?]

Please what, my love?

[His hand wraps around his length and Orym wants so much as well. He wants to taste him, to take that arousal into his mouth and find out the feeling of him on his tongue. He wants to hold the other man down, trap him motionless as he rides his cock until Dorian is desperate for release. He wants to spread the other man until he's bared before him, to bury himself inside Dorian and fuck him until the bard understands how much he's wanted.

And oh they have time for all of it. But where to start.]

Tell me what you want from me, and it's yours.

[ Another gasp as Orym’s hand wraps around his cock, and he breathes out a ragged moan, his fingers tangling in the sheets beneath him as he tries to concentrate enough to form words. ]

Please…fuck me, Orym…claim me, take me apart.

[ He glances up, his eyes shining with desire as he meets Orym’s gaze. ]

Make me yours.

[His fingers tighten around him, a brief squeeze before he strokes at him languidly, thumb teasing over the head of his arousal to collect and smear the moisture he finds there down along the length of him.]

You are mine...

[Orym murmurs with a smile.]

And I'll show you that right now, beautiful. You'll look so pretty coming apart under me, begging me for more.

[His free hand reaches out and the bedside drawer opens, a small glass bottle flies towards his fingers.]

Turn over for me?

[ He breathes in sharply at the sudden tight pressure around him, but the shift to a gentle stroke leaves him shuddering. The promise in Orym’s words pulls a soft whimper from this throat, already leaving him wanting for it.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nods and carefully shifts, sucking in a breath as his sensitive arousal brushes against the bed below him. ]

Perfect... So good for me.

[Orym murmurs softly, gentle and sweet praise like one might offer to a favored pet to encourage exactly the behavior he wants to see. He smiles, a brief flicker of red in those otherwise clear green eyes, his hand caressing up along the back of Dorian's thigh, up over his ass in a soft, almost affectionate gesture.]

I have wanted you for so long.

[And now he would have him. Unseen hands grip at Dorian's hips, lifting them, an equal pressure on shoulders keeping his chest held to the bed as Orym takes the liberty to position the other man where he wants him. It may be a bit revealing, a bit vulnerable, entirely wanton. His own hand is the one to thumb open the bottle, to begin drizzling the softly scented oil over his ass, his hole, fingers moving to massage there gently.]

[ The words cause his heart to skip, even just that bit of praise sending a rush through him. And he can’t help a soft sound at the gentle touch, leaning back into it for more.

But then invisible hands are arranging him, and his breath hitches as his hips are positioned while his upper body is held down. His blush darkens, reaching the tips of his ears as he’s made so exposed, and yet his cock still twitches at the thought of being so open for Orym. ]

Mm…me too. So long…

[ He shivers as the oil dribbles over him, and a moan immediately rises from his throat at the touch of fingers to his rim. ]

O-Orym…

Not much longer...

[Orym purrs to him, a soft, sweet promise. His fingers continue their slow, gentle touch before one begins to press inside him. He wants to be inside him, wants to know what Dorian feels like, what he sounds like when he's overcome with pleasure.

Even just that sound of his name, moaned that way, is enough to have Orym biting back a groan of his own. His other hand slips beneath him to find his cock once more, moving slowly over him in time with the way his finger begins to slowly fuck its way in and out of him.]

[ The words and what they mean, what is soon to come sends a shiver down his spine. He can’t help a soft whine in anticipation, which trails into a moan when that finger finally enters him. He squirms, trying to shift back to bring more inside but the invisible hands hold him firm.

Then Orym finds his length - and it is undoubtedly Orym, the warmth of his hand much different from the ghost-like ones holding him down - causing him to jerk a little, his breath hitching sharply as Orym simultaneously strokes and finger fucks him. ]

A-Ahhh…

You look so lovely like this...

[Orym murmurs the words softly as he continues, fingers running up over the head of his arousal, down along the length of him. His finger presses deep, taking his time before adding a second -- and then very deliberately seeking out that spot inside him.]

Has anyone had you like this before, Dorian?

[ The thought of how he must look right now - naked, held down and presenting himself like an animal in heat - causes him to shudder under the hands, his cock jumping even more to attention under Orym’s hand.

His mind already clouded with need, it takes a moment before he’s able to respond. ]

I-I…n-not like this, no… [ He’s not new to sex, exactly, but he’s never been on the receiving end, as it were.

He groans as those fingers stretch him open, trying but unable to rock back into them. But then they brush along that spot and causes his back to arch. ]

H’aaah…!

[Dorian looks like Orym's deepest fantasy is what he looks like, and it has the halfling nearly delirious with desire. He has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

And he has to bite back a groan at Dorian's answer, the idea that he will be the first to have Dorian this way.]

Hmm. Good. I'll take such good care of you, beautiful.

[And once Dorian arches against him that way, he smiles, deliberately massaging against that spot. He could bring him off like this; he knows he could. He wonders if he could and then fuck Dorian into another orgasm.]

[ Another ragged moan rumbles through him as Orym’s fingers press against that spot over and over, the trembling of his body the only way he can move while held in place by invisible hands. That combined with the continued stroking of his length push him closer and closer to the edge, so far gone as he is in his desire for the other man that the heat is already threatening to consume him. ]

Nngh…O-Orym…Orym, I…p-please, I can’t…

It's all right, Dorian...

[He purrs, and there's a tone in his voice that is Orym but also something else as he assures him.]

Let go. Come for me... We won't be done. I can make you come again, with me.

[The halfling assures him while his hands continue, fingers relentlessly moving inside him, his hand wrapped firmly around him, stroking him with the full intent to get him off then and there.]

[ Orym’s voice, his words seem to reverberate throughout his entire body, sending a pulse that only seems to further coalesce and burn to his core. He’s helpless against it, just as he is helpless against the hands holding him in place, helpless under Orym and his attention to his body and soul.

He grips the sheets underneath his hands, and with a few more strokes in and outside of him, he shudders and keens as the pressure boils over completely, coursing through him like lightning as he spills onto the bed below him. ]

There you are... good boy.

[Orym strokes Dorian through his release, only drawing his hand away once he's certain that the other man is fully spent. His fingers slip slowly free from him, hand moving to rub gently at the small of his back.]

Breathe for me, beautiful. Was it good?

[ He whimpers a little, the touch only sending more sparks through his sensitive flesh as he empties his seed onto the bed. Then a small, plaintive moan when Orym’s hands finally withdraw, his hole fluttering around air as his cock softens.

When the waves of pleasure slowly ebb, he takes a few ragged breaths, and he’s glad for the invisible hands still holding him up, his legs trembling enough that he doesn’t think he could stay up on his own. ]

M-Mm…that was…amazing.

[ And that had only been with Orym’s hands. How much better it would be to feel his cock buried inside him. ]

[Orym is still rubbing at his back gently, soothingly. But those unseen hands have not yet released him, holding his hips up. The halfling smiles at the words.]

Good. I'm glad.

[He leans in then and grazes his teeth over one cheek, hard enough to leave a bitemark on that perfect ass. His.]

But I'm not done with you yet, beautiful. Tell me you still want me.

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