A Debt and a Gift

[raventonbeauty]

The realm of Cocytus was a cold, dark, barren little island in the midst of a river, which made it quite to the taste of the god-thing that owned it and not at all to the taste of anyone else. Cocytus made certain to meet her guest upon the shore, welcoming the senior deity who was not quite her liege.

"Ereuvir," she said, in a voice reminiscent of things that bubbled in the dark depths of caves. Her rags fluttered as she performed a slow bow. The gray, tattered hood that covered her head served also to conceal her face and the elegant, swollen, contorting blisters that her guests found so strangely unpleasant. Cocytus simply could not understand the universe's lack of appreciate for her beauty and wonders. "Welcome. I have such a thing to give you."

A gift that was not quite a gift. Cocytus owed a debt after all, which was not the sort of thing that Cocytus liked, and recently she had come into possession of something else that she did not like. Cocytus liked suicides, and she liked them to be as self-loathing or as depressive as possible. The particular despair that came from those who had turned violence upon themselves was a vintage sweeter than any Cocytus had ever found, and the rest of the gods were happy to let her collect her little tragedies. Except that one of those tragedies, lately, was proving to be such a thorn.

Well enough, then, that Cocytus was expecting a visitor, and one with very different taste. Debt and thorn could be bundled up together and handed over to Ereuvir, and Cocytus could go back to basking in the soothing misery of her precious island.

Comments

[notcharming]

Where indeed? It certainly seems as though Ereuvir isn't particularly worried about the possibility, as he gives the warning but leaves no guards for him.

A servant comes to collect him eerily quickly, and they seem pale-faced and not inclined to speak to him, but it's certainly more pleasant than his reception on the island. He's shown to a small sitting room where Ereuvir is sitting in a chair, dressed simply but more recognizably like a gentleman than a warlord. He is reading, but he looks up as Ashley approaches and gives him a once over, more assessing than sexual, before nodding, and gesturing to the other chair.

"As I expected, you cleaned up well. Please, help yourself," there are an assortment of lighter foods and pastries on the table, along with tea, which Ereuvir already has a cup of on the table at his elbow. It's unclear if he somehow knew Ashley would be feeling hungry, or if it's incidental and he also desired to eat. He doesn't look like he's eaten anything yet, but he has clearly been enjoying the tea.

He studies him again for a moment, more speculatively,

"I haven't yet decided what I'm planning on doing with you. I am not wholly unaccustomed to guests, or to tribute, but this is the first time the two have been combined into something quite so... personal."

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley's very pleased by the array of treats, though he does wish that there was wine instead of tea. Still, he drops into the indicated chair and immediately reaches for food and drink. He eats with very little decorum and licks his fingers shamelessly, though he's still attentive to his vanity. Everything about him is carefully performed to be sexually appealing. Normally, Ashley would give more care to being unattainable, but it's quite clear to him that he's already found the largest fish in this particular pond.

"Are you taking suggestions?" he asks, meticulously deconstructing a pastry and consuming a morsel at a time from the ruins.

[notcharming]

In some respects, Ereuvir is completely unaffected. In others, he is quickly becoming ensnared. The sexuality of the motions does nothing in particular for him. He is without strictly biological needs or, if perhaps it could be said that is not entirely true, then the only ones he requires are more intimately linked to his function rather than some kind of more human-like desire.

That said, watching this lovely young man meet adversity and an unknown and clearly powerful supernatural captor with such a sensual means of attack (or possibly defense) is fascinating. It's not what most people would do without knowing anything about him and it is therefore interesting to him. He considers the slightly impertinent question for a moment and then his lips twist into a wry little smile,

"I wasn't intending on it, but if the suggestion is interesting enough, I might be persuaded." He is curious to see where Ashley is going with this, though he has at least some idea.

[raventonbeauty]

With that permission, Ashley gets up, taking his teacup with him. He comes around the table and seats himself neatly across Ereuvir's lap, and then continues his process of deconstructing and eating pastries as casually as ever. He hooks one foot very coyly around the back of Ereuvir's calf, which also helps to keep him balanced on Ereuvir's lap as he reaches across the table for the pastry that he wants.

Ashley feels that it would be vulgar at this point to specify his suggestion, but he thinks he's made himself clear enough.

[notcharming]

He doesn't have to work very hard at staying in Ereuvir's lap because Ereuvir puts his hands on him immediately, first sliding warm and slightly covetous up his sides and then one wound more warmly around his hips, seating him more firmly there. The opposite curls almost delicately around his throat, tugging it back a little and baring it, but not with any intent to cut off breathing. His voice is low and warm but dark, sinister,

"I am the Lord of the Underworld. Ruler and... reformer of all of the wicked souls of this earth. I control everything in this land absolutely. And you would presume to suggest warming my bed so casually? Have you no sense of self preservation, or are you simply unaware that you can still feel pain, can still be tortured, here, but here, there is no death to end it."

Neither his tone, nor the way that he's holding him make it particularly clear whether he is talking of being tortured because he's taking offense or tortured because that's what warming his bed entails. Truthfully, he wants him to wonder. He continues to be curious what makes this beautiful young man tick. Something must frighten him and while Ereuvir doesn't necessarily want to scare him, he does want to know what that is.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley responds pliantly and gracefully as he's grasped, following Ereuvir's lead like it's a step in a dance, so that he doesn't spill a drop of his tea. Instead, holding carefully still where Ereuvir's gripping him and keeping his foot hooked around Ereuvir's calf, he closes his eyes and sets the teacup safely down on the table before he responds.

"I'm aware," Ashley says. His hands are both free, but he doesn't touch. He's been bold enough already. "The island was awful, but Cocytus lacked a certain creativity in my miseries. I don't--" Ashley's eyes flick around the ceiling, though there isn't much to see with his chin tilted up like this. He swallows, and a little tremor goes through him. He is frightened, though he's very good at hiding it, and even better at not letting it stop him from doing what he wants. "I don't think you lack that creativity."

Relaxing back against Ereuvir's chest, Ashley tucked his head over Ereuvir's shoulder. "Every creature I have ever encountered desires attention and flattery. Human or otherwise." It's true that Ereuvir is unlike any of the mere mortal creatures Ashley has encountered. But he has a physical body and an interest in keeping up appearances. Both of those speak quite clearly to Ashley that Ereuvir will be interested in someone who can offer him more than yet another body to torture. "How many of the beings in your realm offer you attention for the sheer pleasure of it?"

[notcharming]

"I could take my pick of beautiful, sycophantic creatures, if that is what I desired," he does not deny, however, that he does sometimes wish for companionship, if nothing else, someone to pass the days with. There is much in his realm that requires his attention, but much more that runs mostly on it's own. The hand around Ashley's throat turns instead to a caress,

"What is it you stand to gain? If I offered you the chance to walk out of here, would you take it instead? Do you offer because you think it will save you, or do you offer because there is something you desire?" The arm around his waist shifts, the hand moving to his thigh instead, spreading his legs across his lap. The position is obscene, but his hand moves no further, simply holds him like that, lets him feel how easy it was for him to do it.

"You are beautiful," he offers the praise freely, "and I do like to surround myself with things that are beautiful. But I have all of history to choose from. Here, your beauty is not enough. Show me what else you will offer."

[raventonbeauty]

"May I never be sycophantic," Ashley prayed, with a grimace. He wriggled against Ereuvir's grip, annoyed at the thought of being so well-behaved as to be thought sycophantic. But when Ereuvir spread his legs instead of letting him escape, Ashley laughed and relaxed again, grinding his hips once against Ereuvir's lap. "Walk out of here and go where? I've seen all of two places in death, and of everything I've seen so far, I like this spot here best."

[notcharming]

"So you think to trade your body for luxury, safety? Or perhaps you think you can twist me around your fingers just because you fuck well?" the obscenity falls cold from his mouth, along with a grinding push back against his ass, vulgar.

Unlike the questions before it, this one seems colder, more like a test of some kind.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley growls at that, the sound of an angry kitten, and scuffles briefly against Ereuvir's grip. "Fucking," he's too irritated to find the words, and he huffs for a moment, sulking in Ereuvir's lap. He's scared now, of failure and of being merely ordinary, neither a great beauty nor particularly interesting when compared against the ranks of history. Nothing but a momentary diversion, soon forgotten. The thought made Ashley burn with indignation and terror. "I was offering more than that."

[notcharming]

Not surprisingly, the struggle gets him nowhere. Ereuvir might as well be carved from stone for all he moves him. Ereuvir lets him struggle, both physically and with the words to try to explain, but in his terror, Ereuvir finds what he was looking for and a moment later, he shifts his hold, and now he's got a hand tangled in all of that hair, using it to yank his head to the side, deliberately brutal and uncomfortable, but not quite painful, unless he struggles too much, of course.

"There," he breathes and it's likely more of what Ashley was hoping for, voice low and covetous, "Show me what lights you on fire. I have no use for burnt out torches and less for someone going through the motions or doing what they think is expected of them. I care nothing for what you look like. Burn for me, and then you will have what you wish of me."

The kiss that follows is inescapable but, soft, once he's moved into a better position for it, completely at odds with the way Ereuvir has touched him so far.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley's breath is quick and scared as Ereuvir wrenches his head to one side, but the fear only spurs his temper and pride. As Ereuvir kisses him, softly, Ashley yields a little, spreading his legs a little wider and hooking both of his feet around Ereuvir's calves in half-unconscious appreciation. He likes being handled like this, likes the possessive hold balanced against the soft kiss.

And yet the instant he can speak again, Ashley's temper bubbles over. "How dare you compare me to a burnt out torch."

[notcharming]

Ereuvir laughs to that,

"Well, then never give me reason to again," he throws back, in challenge, before he bites into the meat of his shoulder, sharply, though not quite enough to break the skin, just enough to work a bruise there, even through his shirt. He tears said shirt down one side in the next instant, not at all painful, but violent and sudden, and places a kiss over the skin he's just abused.

"I like you better like this than you posing for me. If you are insistent on coming to my bed, I want all of you there, not just the parts of you that are pretty. I would not force you to share my bed, but if you wish to come there of your own free will, I will have your honesty, there. You will face the truth of yourself. It is what I do. It is what I am."

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley's mollified by the laughter, because he doesn't mind being laughed at half so much as he minded Ereuvir's accusations. Ereuvir's attention is back where it belongs, on him, and Ashley's pleased by it.

He moans at the bite, arching against Ereuvir and writhing in his lap, wanting more of such treatment. "I like posing," Ashley argues, having no intention of ceasing prettiness and posing just on account of Ereuvir finds it less honest. It is a sort of honesty, for Ashley, and he doesn't intend to give up any aspect of the things that please him. "Force me to share your bed," he huffs next, still sore over the things Ereuvir said. "As if it was your idea."

[notcharming]

"I am merely laying out the terms," Ereuvir says, evenly, "You may make of them what you wish. I want your honesty and your fire, not your beauty. I want all of the dark things underneath your skin and inside your heart," it's said low and dangerous into his skin, but he's also got his hand more properly between Ashley's legs now, "And if you stay here, I will not give you the choice on whether to show them to me or not."

It is not a threat, or even really a warning. It is just the truth.

But then, it also doesn't seem like he needs any further convincing, either, if the way Ashley's shirt is now a ruined mess hanging on his shoulders is any indication, or the way he's leaving lesser bruises to the first up his neck.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley makes a soft, breathy laugh at that insistence. He's warm and relaxed in Ereuvir's arms, basking in the touches and the attention. "Oh, are we finally on the same page?" he asks, playful and slightly challenging. "That's what I was offering in the first place."

Rolling his hips into Ereuvir's hand, Ashley turns his head to press a sweet, tempting kiss to Ereuvir's jaw. "Anything less sounds so awfully boring."

[notcharming]

"Well, I would hate to bore you," it's said with a bit of sharpness, if only because of the difference in their power here, but it's clear that it's more playful. He's not really some kind of dictator unable to enjoy a situation where he's not controlling every last element nor one for throwing around his power overly much. He's used to power and to his power being absolute. There's little need for him to prove himself to anyone.

He is also used to is mortals saying one thing to him and quickly changing their tune once they figure out what that entails. Plenty of people are perfectly fine to bed you right up until they figure out what that means. Plenty of people beg for mercy until they realize that, sometimes, compassion cuts every bit as deeply as contempt. He is not sure that Ashley isn't going to be someone who changes his mind, once the reality of his situation sinks in. Ereuvir is not human and he knows full well that that means his reactions to things don't always line up with the expected, that he can be hurtful or callous or even cruel without even meaning to.

But Ashley seems insistent and Ereuvir isn't opposed. It seems silly to refuse something for a dead man's good, counter to both their wishes and your own.

So his hands make short work of Ashley's pants so he can get that pressing hand down inside them, stroking him almost idly. They are alone and have been this whole time, but he seems entirely unconcerned that the door is still open and that there are occasionally the sounds of servants moving through the halls. He knows they will not be disturbed unless he wishes it, but Ashley does not.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley’s fully aware that Ereuvir holds all the power, and the only card Ashley holds is his ability to charm. He trusts that will be more than enough. It always has been in the past.

Pleased by the touch, Ashley writhes happily in Ereuvir’s lap. He doesn’t care that he’s in full view of the door. Ashley’s always been an exhibitionist, and he’s proud that he’s secured Ereuvir’s attention and interest. The king of the underworld. That’s an ego boost all on its own.

The only sour point is the deep ache in Ashley’s heart, longing for his brother. He doesn’t even know whether Arkady still lives, but can only assume he doesn’t.

Which makes Ereuvir the best way for Ashley to find him again, and a motivation that Ashley neglected to reveal in their negotiation. Such a tiny little detail. All the rest of it is true, after all. Arkady or no, Ashley wants a place at the king’s side.

He turns his head, sweetly nuzzling at the side of Ereuvir’s throat. “My king.”

[notcharming]

Ereuvir nuzzles back a bit and then shifts to add more bruises to the first on Ashley's neck. He doesn't seem to be a particularly brutal lover, at least not for the sake of being brutal, but there's a caged viciousness in some of his movements, not so much painful or violent as just committed, inexorable.

His grip on Ashley's cock turns a little firmer, more purposeful, the other arm wound around his chest to hold him tighter against him. Ereuvir isn't doing a whole lot of moving, other than his mouth and that hand, but it's clear from the way he's got Ashley pulled down in his lap, that that's because he's letting Ashley do most of the moving for him as he writhes.

He makes a small, amused sound at Ashley's title for him, but he doesn't correct either the designation or the possessive, at least not at the moment.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley's willing to do most of the moving for him. He does like a challenge, as long as it pleases him, and he likes the opportunity to show off how limber he is. Grinding against Ereuvir's lap and up into that hand, Ashley loses himself in the pleasure of it, enjoying the physical sensations and the focus of keeping a steady, undulating motion that doesn't falter even as he tires and grows increasingly distracted and aroused.

No longer bothering to pay quite as much doting attention to Ereuvir, Ashley trusts himself to the arm around his chest and the hand around his cock, breath coming a little quicker as he gets close to the edge.

[notcharming]

Ereuvir makes a pleased noise once Ashley relaxes into the pleasure more, even if he is, paradoxically, working harder for it.

He has had many, many flatterers, many people with pretty words, many people who have offered him something like this in exchange for something else: power, usually, wishes, occasionally. He perhaps likes it as much as anyone would, but he doesn't trust it, and he doesn't trust people wielding it.

But this? This is honest, pleasure for the sake of pleasure, and if there's a little bit of proving oneself, it seems more like it's just that Ashley wants to show off, more than he wants to impress him, specifically. Perhaps he's just fooling himself, but the illusion at least allows him to enjoy it more openly, himself, moaning low in Ashley's ear.

While he's certainly been interested this entire time, he's much more clearly turned on, the less of that doting attention Ashley's giving him and the more he's just grinding in his lap, losing himself in pleasure.

"Give in to it," he purrs, dark in his ear, "Be as loud as you want, give all of them something to gossip about," picking up on that exhibitionist streak isn't particularly difficult.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley shivers and laughs, smiling wide at Ereuvir's encouragement, and he's still laughing a little, breathless and easy, as he comes. Shuddering in Ereuvir's arms, he loses his rhythm but keeps moving, writhing and squirming until he finally sags back against Ereuvir's chest, dizzy and worn out.

Tilting his head back over Ereuvir's shoulder, Ashley gives a little sound of contentment and tilts his head to kiss Ereuvir's throat. "Oh, I do like you," he murmurs, offering the praise as though it was Ereuvir who was trying to win Ashley's favor rather than anything else. Relaxed and content, Ashley doesn't have any intention of moving. This is his lap now, and he's comfortable.

[notcharming]

That laugh does more to cement his place in Ereuvir's bed than any single other thing he has done.

His mouth raises bruises across the nape of Ashley's neck, heated, while he finds his pleasure, but he's almost doting, himself, in the aftermath. He's still hard, but he's utterly unconcerned about it, they have all the time in the world and he's in no hurry. He'd much rather toy with the edges of overstimulation, makes Ashley protest it a little before he stops stroking him, or just keeps right on making him squirm if he lets him, and plant warmer, longer kisses over the marks he's left with his teeth.

Ereuvir radiates the same kind of contentment, and he chuckles softly to Ashley's comment,

"It would be rather bad for you at this point if you didn't," he points out, lazily, before withdrawing his hand and wiping it carelessly on Ashley's pants. He lets Ashley bask a moment longer, but then he's picking him up into his arms and standing, effortlessly. He makes no effort to really put Ashely's clothing back to rights before he's moving through the house with him, headed fairly clearly towards his bedroom.

[raventonbeauty]

Ashley enjoys the overstimulation shamelessly. He whimpers and trembles in Ereuvir’s lap, enjoying the too-intense pleasure with a hint of masochism.

When Ereuvir lets up, Ashley’s still twitching with aftershocks. He nestles close in Ereuvir’s arms, curling one hand around the side of his throat with his thumb pressed up under Ereuvir’s Adam’s apple, and starts sucking a mark of his own onto the other side of Ereuvir’s throat. He’s in disarray, but doesn’t care who sees. Erotic dishevelment is a far more acceptable state than muddiness, after all.

[notcharming]

It is, perhaps, a bit of a bold move, to presume to mark him. But Ereuvir doesn't seem to mind, to the point even that, while he doesn't come close to dropping Ashley or anything, it's clear to feel the shudder that moves through him at the touch, the way it distracts his limbs from what he's doing for a moment.

There certainly are servants that see the two of them but, wisely, they seem to barely look or acknowledge what's happening, mostly just because of how well-trained they are.

Ereuvir's bedroom is not entirely in black, but it certainly dominates, along with dark, old wood. Ashley is deposited on the bed and his clothes pulled off without much ceremony, until he's naked on something exquisitely smooth against his skin. Ereuvir leaves him there, to go start pulling off his own clothes rather more methodically. Ashely could get up and help, fairly obviously, but also fairly obviously, he looks fantastic with the backdrop he's been given to preen and roll around on.

Ereuvir must have done it on purpose, for he looks slightly amused by his handiwork as he slowly reveals a body more suited to a statue than a person, but his eyes never leave the picture he's painted across his bed.