Somewhere in the distance, Lazarus could hear howling. He glanced over as Tilly’s ears pricked up in interest, hoping she wouldn’t knock the candle over again if she stood. He was far more interested, however, in the man lying on top of him. He was caged in and trapped by Gabriel’s arms, held down and unable to move. Even his quick look at Tilly was facilitated only by moving his eyes. That had been hard enough, looking away from the smouldering emotions in Gabriel’s eyes.
Since Lazarus had admitted his anger was not directed at him, and apologised, albeit a little gruffly and reluctantly, Gabriel had been particularly daring with his shows of affection, no matter where they were. Lazarus would have been guilty of lying had he denied enjoying it.
“So, what’ll it be tonight, my lord?” Lazarus smirked a little as he drew out his lover’s title. “Shall I suck you? Should I bring you to the edge and make you beg me for more?”
“Insolent little whelp,” Gabriel growled playfully, shifting so that his hands were on Lazarus’ shoulders, pinning him to the bed. The scratchy, lumpy hay mattress was delicious beneath him. Every nerve in his body was tingling. Gabriel had tried, in the last couple of weeks, to get Lazarus to replace the mattress, but Lazarus insisted he didn’t mind – it reminded him of who he was, he said. Both of them were glad they had it tonight. The tension that had been building between them, the raw energy that was holding them together – all of it would have felt wrong with a soft, fluffy mattress to cradle them gently. Nothing about the way they felt was gentle, not tonight. “You’ll be doing more than sucking me, mark my words.”
“Is that so? What might that entail?”
Gabriel dipped his head and whispered in his ear: “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a demand; it was a statement, a fact. Lazarus almost dissolved right there. Finally, they were going to consummate their relationship. It was more than that, though. Being told exactly what was going to happen without being left any room for argument was an incredible turn on. Blood rushed straight from his brain to his groin and left him a thoughtless plaything for Gabriel to do with as he pleased.
Feeling Lazarus’ desire grow, he laughed, a low, warm, husky sound. He pushed Lazarus’ hair back, exposing the curve of his neck. For a moment, all he could do was admire how beautiful Lazarus looked, lying there impatiently. Only the look in his eyes betrayed him. He was otherwise perfectly still and utterly obedient. His facial expression was hovering on contentment, but it was that spark of wanton lust, the wideness of his pupils that threatened to engulf the bright blue iris completely. Gabriel knew that he could ask anything of Lazarus in that moment and he would have done it.
There was a thrill of nervousness that shivered between them momentarily as they met each other’s gaze, a fleeting shudder of excitement they shared as they realised that they were finally going to make love together, that Gabriel was no longer uncertain about it.
Gabriel thought back to the first time they kissed. How far he had come since then. And how patient Lazarus had been with him. The boy surely deserved a medal. He had no medal to award him, but he could certainly make it a perfect night, one that neither of them would ever forget. He had noticed the effect his dominance had on Lazarus during the time they had been together. It was particularly noticeable in bed when they fooled around, and now, when he had told him what he was going to do... It was a totally feral feeling. Some primal beast within him roared with a hunger that needed to be sated for the first time in his life. He asked for a salve or oil, anything he could use, in a voice that was unfamiliar to him. His words were rough, and Lazarus’ reply was just as hoarse.
Lazarus wet his lips, biting them in anticipation as he watched Gabriel fetch the oil he kept for any encounters he might have. He knew now that the only encounters he would ever have after this would be with Gabriel. He rolled over onto his belly, getting himself ready. Half a heartbeat later, a forceful hand grabbed his waist and pulled him onto his side.
“What’re you doing? I want to see your face,” Gabriel’s demanding scowl was shadowed in the weak, flickering candle light.
“Sorry,” Lazarus murmured, letting the mattress scratch his soft, pale skin as he settled on his back again, staring up at his lover.
“Good. Lift your legs up,” Gabriel instructed, admiring what Lazarus had to offer him when he obeyed. He had seen Lazarus’ body plenty of times in all their other late night activities, but seeing him like this, with his legs raised in the air and his arms wrapped around them to hold them there... that brutish beast within him growled in approval.
He took his time oiling them both, nipping and pinching and teasing as he went, slowly working Lazarus into fits of curses. Laughter spilled from his lips as Lazarus groaned impatiently. He watched, fascinated as his lover responded to every touch differently. He instructed him to stay still and teased him until he could take no more, chastising him when he moved. The more he did this, the harder he could see Lazarus working to do as he was told. He was so enthralled by this new game and how it affected them both, that he barely realised how long he had drawn it out until he heard Lazarus begging, almost shouting at him. The candle was more a pool of ugly, misshapen wax by now. Neither of them cared.
Lazarus pleaded with him with both his eyes and his words; his eyes were wide and full of desperation, his words were choked and impatient. “Please, for the love o’ God, Gabriel!”
Though it was tempting to demand that Lazarus beg some more, Gabriel chuckled and applied a little more oil. He brushed it over Lazarus’ hole, pushing his thumb in gently, revelling in the way it opened and pulled him in. He couldn’t wait any longer. Pushing a hard kiss against Lazarus’ lips, he let his instincts take over, letting them guide him entirely.