...Zevran bucked up against Tannusen's fingers, forcing the mage to hold him harder back against the wall with his arm as he slid the oiled end of the sounding rod slowly, slowly into the tip of Zevran's hardened sex. "Shhh," Tannu murmured, "hold still, Zevran. You wouldn't want me to have to do this all over again, would you?"
The Antivan held still, save for a faint trembling, his arms against the wall behind him as though for support, a soft moan sighing from his lips as the ring near the end of the rod slid over and behind the head of his arousal, holding the short length of narrow steel it was attached to in place inside of him. Tannusen smiled, pleased, and pressed a kiss to Zevran's tense stomach, toying briefly with the long, delicate chain attached to the curved arm between ring and rod.
Zevran stared down at him in panting silence as Tannusen removed a new item from his pack beside them, unwrapping it from a spare clean shirt. His expression upon seeing the item was... dubious. Perhaps just a touch reluctant.
"And what is that look for?" Tannusen purred, sliding the broad leather half-pouch over Zevran's flesh, trapping his hardness firmly up against his body. "You're mine for the evening, remember?" The leather was hardened to hold its shape, rather like the rogue's usual armor, but the inside was soft and supple. It was meant to deny friction, both positive and negative. "That includes this part of you. Hold that chain up out of the way," the mage added, buckling the belt around Zevran's hips.
A narrow strap from the bottom of the encasement was slid between Zevran's legs, pulled firmly up behind him, and buckled to the back of the belt. Tannusen sat back on his heels and buckled two more straps, one around the top of each thigh, ensuring that there would be no getting out of the contraption without a lot of buckles undone. No casual touching with this on, even without locks applied.
Zevran still stared down at him. "You are making me wear a... a chastity belt?" the assassin cleared his throat delicately, "Isn't that... ah... a waste of the evening, my Warden?"
"Get dressed, Zevran," Tannusen smirked, climbing back up to his feet, "and leave that chain out where I can touch it."
The assassin's current armor had pants to cover his thighs, but previous sets hadn't, and Tannusen casually collected the extra bit of leather and tossed it in the far corner of their rented room. He sat on the edge of the bed, and watched as Zevran collected the remaining parts, buckling it all on with hesitant, somewhat halting, and very distracted movements.
When Zevran came near, Tannu reached out and took the other man's arm, pulling him down into his lap. If not for Zevran's faintly flushed skin and slightly glazed eyes -- and that delicate bit of chain protruding from his armor belts at his hip, of course -- he looked much as any other moment in their travels. Knowing that he was anything but, beneath the confines of hard leather, was... enticing.
"You are aware that one does not normally put clothing back on during this, my Grey Warden?" Zevran questioned, but he moaned softly all the same as Tannusen sucked his earlobe between his lips and nibbled. The assassin's hands settled on the mage's shoulders, still covered in his own dark robes.
Tannusen chuckled, his hands sliding beneath the peculiar leather-strap skirt of Zevran's armor to cup his rear, squeezing, guiding the other to straddle his thighs properly and pulling him up against himself. "Can you feel the rod inside of you, Zevran?" Tannu asked, "Can you feel the chain tugging at you?" Another soft moan and a flex of Zevran's hips was his only reply. Tannusen smirked. "I thought so. Less complaining, my beautiful killer;" he purred, and pressed a leisurely kiss to Zevran's lips, "more compliance."
"As you wish," Zevran whispered, his fingers tightening on Tannusen's shoulders.
"Now, get your weapons together," Tannu ordered silkily, "we're heading out."
"...Truly?" Zevran pulled back enough to stare at him, uncertain again. The mage quirked an eyebrow in silent response, and watched as the Antivan swallowed his doubts. "...As you say, then."
- - - - -
Zevran had regained some of his composure by the time Tannusen led the way down the stairs to the inn's main common room, finding several of their companions relaxing at a table. Alistair waved cheerfully at them, and so Tannusen wandered over to the other Warden, glancing back at Zevran with a faint smirk as he did so.
The poor man still looked just a touch... feverish. Tannusen turned back to their companions. "So," he purred, "there are people we should inform of our efforts today, correct? I would hate to keep them waiting."
"I'll come with you," Alistair volunteered quickly, his gaze sliding past the elven mage and settling on Zevran. "Are you alright, Zevran? You look a little... I don't know. Flustered?"
"He has a bit of a fever," Tannusen interjected smoothly, "I will be keeping an eye on him, not to worry. Isn't that right, Zevran?" he glanced back at the other elf, letting his gaze linger -- unseen by the others -- on the metal of the chain at Zevran's hip.
The assassin cleared his throat, too good at this game to fidget, although his eyes glazed incrementally further for a moment. "--Ah, of course," the Antivan agreed, "just a small fever."
"Shouldn't you stay here, if you're sick?" Alistair sounded rather concerned. They had all been traveling together for long enough, by now, that the almost-templar seemed to have given up on the bulk of his mistrust of the elven assassin. "Running around Denerim can't be a good idea when you could easily stay here and rest up for now."
"What do you think, Zevran?" Tannusen chuckled, "Shall we leave you here under lock and key?"
"I think I would rather have the fresh air," Zevran managed to sound normal, but the lift of his chin could only be a challenge. "And the excellent company of our healer, of course."
Tannusen would need to find some locks for that belt, it seemed. The mage grinned his lopsided grin at the subtly-defiant assassin, "And you see, now he's just flattering me," he purred to the others, "can't be too sick if he's doing that, now can he?"
"Yes, how sweet of you two," Leliana commented into her drink, her smirk audible. Tannusen clapped his hand down over her shoulder, offering her a smile when she looked up.
"And you'll round out our little group, won't you?" he purred, "Someone has to keep Alistair from getting lost, if I end up needing to tend to our pet Crow."
"Hey, I wouldn't get...! Well, maybe I would," Alistair began to protest, but thought better of it as he stood up, "Good plan, I guess. Hey Zevran, since when are you our pet Crow?"
"Since your fellow Grey Warden put me on a leash, I suspect," Zevran replied dryly as the four of them headed out, and Tannusen gave the delicate chain at his hip an amused flick while the others were ahead of them.
He left the other man alone for a little while after that, letting the assassin almost recover while they spoke to Sergeant Kylon, and then a bartender, and another bartender... Eventually, while neither of the other two were even remotely paying attention, Tannusen slyly wrapped his arm around Zevran's waist, set his hand on the chain, and--
"Ahh!" The sudden jolt of low-level energy straight through the chain and into the rod inside of him took Zevran by enough surprise that his knees buckled and he cried out despite the busy marketplace. Tannusen caught him, smiling at the others as they whipped around to look, reaching automatically for their weapons.
"I think his fever is getting worse," Tannu said mildly, fingers still casually resting on the chain, all but humming with the very faint traces of pre-lightning still coursing straight into Zevran's body. "Are you quite alright, Zevran?"
Zevran stared up at him with glazed eyes, lips parted, slumped against the mage who held him upright. Tannusen felt his smile widen a little. "Zevran?"
"Y-yes," Zevran was clearly trying to sound neutral, and only half-succeeding. "Of course."
"Are you sure?" Tannusen purred. "I can still lock you in the room until you recover..."
"Woah, he's really looking fevered now," Alistair moved closer with a clink of heavy armor, "maybe we should take him back to the inn?"
"I... I think I will be fine," Zevran's voice dropped to a soft whisper. Tannusen glanced up at Alistair's worried expression, and then past the human to Leliana, who was watching the proceedings with raised eyebrows. She met Tannusen's glance, and something in his look confirmed something to the bard, because she started giggling.
"What? What's so funny?" Alistair glanced over his shoulder at Leliana, "He's obviously in pain!"
"I'll just bet that he is," Leliana covered her mouth with her hand, "We should go, Alistair. Let's, uh -- let your fellow Warden relieve Zevran's fever without us, hm?"
Zevran buried his face in Tannusen's robes to muffle the softest, tinniest of moans as the power from the mage's fingers slowly increased. "I think I can handle it," Tannusen chuckled, "he's just over-done it, that's all. You two finish up our errand-running without us, hm?"
"I, but--" Alistair looked from Leliana to the two elves and back again, clearly uncertain, and Leliana took his arm and began guiding him away.
"They'll be fine," Leliana was still laughing a little, "I think Zevran's just... um, overheated."
Tannusen watched the two go with a smirk, and glanced down at Zevran. "You," Zevran choked out into his robes, "are an evil, evil man."
"And you love it," the mage chuckled, and started to guide Zevran across the busy street. It was evening, not yet sundown, and Denerim was choked with people out doing their last-minute errands. Several strangers shot the two elves quizzical looks, but no one stopped them as Tannusen led Zevran into a slightly-darkened, narrow break in between buildings.
As soon as they weren't in immediate sight of the crowded street -- although anyone with any curiosity at all could easily peer down the passage and see them clearly enough -- Zevran slid down to the ground at Tannusen's feet, his shaking fingers parting the mage's robes; pulling at the buckle of his belt.
"Now, now," Tannusen admonished gently, holding the end of the delicate chain in one hand like a leash, his other covering Zevran's fingers, "you don't have permission for that."
Zevran choked out a peculiar noise and clenched both hands in Tannusen's robes, resting his forehead against the mage's hip and shuddering as the thrum of energy spiked. Still very low-level, not enough to hurt, but enough to make the Antivan squirm even on his knees on the ground.
"How does it feel," the mage purred, "being teased from the inside by my magic, while nothing else can even touch you?"
"Please, my Warden," Zevran shuddered against his hip, "I..."
"Zevran," Tannusen chuckled softly, "I can go all night without letting you touch me even once, if you don't answer my question."
"Wicked man," the Antivan gasped out, releasing the mage's robes as Tannusen slowly pushed him back from himself, guiding him down onto the ground on his back, straddling the assassin's hips and kneeling in the dirt. The chain was set aside for a moment with a final surge of energy, Tannusen choosing to stroke both hands over Zevran's face, sliding his fingers behind the other man's head to undo his braids.
"A belt for a belt," the healer chuckled, smoothing out Zevran's loosened hair, "only seems fair to me."
Zevran's only reply was to moan softly and thrash beneath him as Tannu took the chain back up, his other hand fisting into the assassin's hair. "Now, how does it feel?"
"G-good," Zevran thrust his hips up against Tannusen's rear, a frustrated noise tearing from his throat when the action resulted in absolutely no friction; no additional pressure. No matter what he did, every single ounce of possible stimulation was beyond his power, completely at the mercy of the man kneeling over him. His panting breaths sounded loud in the narrow space between buildings, even with the bustling crowd so near on both ends of the gap.
"How good?" Tannusen purred, relentless. He knew he was being almost... cruel, but he also knew that it made Zevran mad with lust. It was only natural for the healer to push, and to keep pushing, as long as the results were the desired ones.
"So good," Zevran cried out, just a little too loudly, and Tannusen leaned down to silence him with his lips.
"Are you close?" the mage asked, his ever-present purr low and dangerous between calm brushes of his lips and tongue against Zevran's frantic attempts to steal a proper, deep kiss. "Do you want release?"
"Yes," Zevran gasped, "Warden, please--"
"...No," Tannusen dropped the chain, cutting off even that much stimulation. Zevran thrashed beneath him for a moment, trying desperately to somehow get that last bit of friction, that last touch -- and there was nothing he could do. The mage could feel the assassin's hands clawing at the back of his robes, his cries muffled against Tannusen's lips.
But there was absolutely nothing Zevran could do to finish himself off, and eventually he lay gasping for breath, trembling violently beneath Tannu, forced to slowly come back from the edge of release. "I love torturing you like this," Tannusen purred darkly, "I could do this to you for hours, Zevran. And you would let me, wouldn't you?"
"Y-yes," Zevran whispered.
"Do you still want to suck on me?" he asked next, stroking Zevran's hair out of his face, tracing the pad of his thumb over the Antivan's soft lower lip.
"Please," the assassin turned his head to run his lips down the side of Tannusen's thumb, over the knuckle at the base, back up... "please let me..."
"So docile now," Tannusen purred, the dark part of him that reveled in this game lowering his tone, making it more steel than velvet, "just look at you... so pliant. No more defiance tonight, my beautiful killer?"
"I submit fully," Zevran shuddered, his accent thick and heavy, "you win this round."
"Good," the mage chuckled, and straightened back in his kneel, letting the assassin undo his belt with shaking fingers; unlace his trousers; draw him out... Tannusen stared at the crowded marketplace past the buildings, not far away. "You know," he noted almost conversationally as Zevran tried to tug him upwards along his armored body, "we're probably going to get caught in here."
"I don't care," Zevran whispered. "Please, let me..."
Tannusen looked back down, watching the way the Antivan lifted his head; tugged at his waist, trying to urge the mage to move. Zevran's gaze flicked up, caught Tannusen's, and held his stare as he licked his lips.
"Very well," Tannusen purred, shifting on his knees, upwards to straddle Zevran's chest. He dropped onto his hands, and then onto his elbow in the dirt as he slid the fingers of his free hand down into Zevran's hair, shuddering as he felt the tip of Zevran's tongue graze his flesh. And then finally that sucking, slick heat surrounded him -- no teasing lead-up in this context -- and the mage moaned softly into his forearm, his hips thrusting gently down.
Zevran took him. The deepest, darkest part of Tannusen's mind that had hoped the man might gag in this position was easily ignored in favor of the slick suction; the way he didn't even have to hold Zevran's head up, the man perfectly eager to have the mage use his mouth. Tannusen bit down on his arm to muffle another moan, and kept his movements to a polite minimum as the assassin began to move his head.
Untouched this evening until now, the effects of tormenting Zevran had him already close to the edge. It wasn't long before he reached back and squeezed himself, hissing out an order for the Crow to stop, pushing himself back upright onto his knees in the dirt.
"Stroke it out, if that's what you're wanting," Tannusen panted softly, watching Zevran strain upwards to try to lap at his slickened tip with his tongue. He watched intently as a partially-gloved hand encircled him, Zevran's heavy-lidded gaze lifting to watch Tannusen in turn as he began to stroke hard and fast, the moisture from the assassin's previous actions faintly dampening soft leather and skin alike.
Tannusen shuddered, leaning back, bracing a hand on the heel of his boot and watching, his heated gaze occasionally flickering up to the remaining crowd passing by the buildings around them. It was still lighter outside of the narrow break between buildings than inside, giving him a clearer view than they would have of him, should any of them peer into the shadows for any reason. He was still exposed, however, much more than any of them were.
He tightened, moaned out a quiet warning...
Zevran caught the first of it on his tongue, and kept stroking as Tannusen's hips thrust forward, sliding into his mouth, several thick droplets decorating Zevran's tattooed cheek. The assassin sealed his lips around him eagerly, sucking him down, draining him dry, and Tannusen panted raggedly down at the other man even once his climax had released him, holding very still except for his trembling.
When he finally withdrew, he swiped at the liquid on Zevran's cheek, rubbing it into his marked skin with little circular motions of his fingertip. The assassin stared silently up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and caught Tannusen's wrist in his hand once the mage was done rubbing himself into Zevran's skin, sealing his lips around the offending fingertip and sucking it clean.
Tannusen backed up, straddling Zevran's thighs, and grabbed the straps of Zevran's weapon harness across his chest, hauling him up into a sitting position to kiss him properly. The taste of himself in the Antivan's mouth hardly bothered him as he stroked his tongue against Zevran's, almost-lazily drawing the kiss out until they both needed to break for breath.
"Up," Tannusen panted softly, giving the harness a final yank as he climbed to his feet, the assassin following quickly, fully-cooperative as Tannu took him by the shoulders and turned him to face one of the walls, kicking his feet apart and encouraging him to bend slightly forward. "Hands on the wall," the mage murmured, running his hands over the hardened leather armor covering the man's body.
Up Zevran's back, over the scabbards of his twin blades, down his sides, over his hips... Tannusen took hold of the hardened leather skirt and bent it upwards, tucking the panels and straps beneath the other man's weapons. "Hold this up with one hand if it starts to slip," he purred, leaning in to breathe the words against Zevran's ear. "Understood?"
The assassin nodded, shuddering visibly as Tannusen's hands slid over his exposed ass, toying with the buckle of the back strap that ran tight up the middle. "I see you in this armor every day," Tannu nibbled on the delicate point of Zevran's ear, "I have to admit, fucking you while you're wearing this has so much appeal to me..."
Zevran groaned softly in response, arching back into Tannusen's hands.
He undid the buckle, tugging the strap down out of his way as he knelt down, spreading the other man apart in his hands, exposing him. Zevran's gasp was sharp and loud, and he shifted fitfully, the front of the chastity belt undisturbed, held in place by the straps around the tops of his thighs.
"The longer I drag this out," Tannu purred silkily, giving one bronze-skinned cheek a hard slap, the sound alarmingly loud in the narrow space between buildings, "the more likely we are to be spotted. Beg me to take my time, Zevran."
"T-take all the time you want, my Warden, please..." Zevran gasped as he was spread open again, "I am--ah!"
Tannusen watched with dark amusement as one of the humans near the entrance of the gap slowed in his steps, glancing into the shadows at the sharp cry. There was no flash of surprise, or anything at all for that matter, and the man continued on without actually spotting them.
"Shh," Tannu chuckled, "let's at least try to stay hidden, hm?"
And before Zevran could reply, he repeated the action that had earned the noise to begin with, leaning in to lap feather-light at the other man's entrance. Above him, Zevran bit down on his hardened leather arm-bracer, muffling another sharp cry, arching his back shamelessly.
Tannusen pressed harder. Zevran tasted only of clean skin and leather, the skin here like pure silk, flexing beneath his tongue as he flattened it, stroked, almost-tickled... Zevran pounded the bottom of one fist against the stone-and-plaster wall, his muffled cries turning into muffled begging, mindless with need.
Slowly, one hand freed at a time to do so, Tannusen undid the buckles at Zevran's thighs. The Antivan hardly seemed to notice, the tip of the mage's tongue pressing in, squirming wetly into tight muscle...
The soft clink of armor and a sharp gasp drew Tannusen's gaze to the side, though he almost didn't hear it at all over Zevran's tortured, muffled noises into his bracer. Tannusen smiled, withdrawing to lap delicately again, his gaze slanted sideways to stare back at the openly-gawking man just inside the gap between buildings. His hands went back to Zevran's ass, spreading him open, turning his hips a little to show their audience just what he was doing as he laved the tip of his tongue against that sensitive ring of silky skin.
He'd never seen Alistair's face so red before.
Another lick, two, three... Tannu slid one hand between Zevran's legs, under the opened chastity belt, taking him in hand and slowly pulling him down and back, tugging at the chain at his tip to draw it back through the belts and give him room.
Eyes still holding their human observer transfixed in place, Tannu dipped his head and gave the heated, swollen underside of Zevran's sex a wet, open-mouthed kiss, tonguing the tiny leak of precum that had finally worked its way past the rod buried deep inside of him.
Above him, the Antivan sobbed into his bracer, his legs trembling.
"Beg me," Tannusen purred, running his tongue over the ring of steel still encircling Zevran. "Beg me to never let you come, Zevran. Beg me to torture you for forever."
Zevran sobbed incoherently, pounding the bottom of his fist into the wall again.
"Do it," Tannu purred, his eyes never leaving Alistair's shocked face, "or I will put you back into the belt, Zevran. I will drag you out into the street like this, throw you at the feet of the nearest blacksmith, and order locks put on you to keep you untouched all night. You know I will. You know I will enjoy it."
"P-please," Zevran gasped, "please don't let me... ahh..."
Never one to play fair, Tannusen slowly slipped the ring of steel down over the head of Zevran's flesh, the rod moving inside of him. He finally stopped staring into Alistair's wide, shocked eyes in favor of watching what he was doing as he slowly worked the steel out a few inches and then back in, leaning in to lick the fluid that the motion leaked out of the other man. "I don't hear you begging," he purred dangerously, his other hand circling Zevran at the base, squeezing.
"Please!" the Antivan cried, all but plastering himself to the wall in front of him, "Keep me like this -- just like this -- please don't ever let me go -- please... ah...! W-Warden!"
Tannusen had expected Alistair to flee the scene as soon as he released him from his stare, but the clink of armor was, when Tannu glanced up, the human taking a single step forward, his face still flaming but his stare... transfixed. Lips slightly parted. Tannusen chuckled darkly, withdrawing the rod almost completely and then sliding it home again with the hiss of lightning. Zevran jerked in his grip, sobbing brokenly into the darkening evening air.
Fully hard by now, Tannusen kept his grip around Zevran's base, denying him his climax once again even as the man all but thrashed against the wall. He retrieved his vial of oil from a pocket in his robes with his other hand, and slicked himself before he slowly stood up, pressing himself against Zevran... not lined up, but just rubbing along him length-wise. It made the other man pant, arch his spine, push back against him shamelessly.
"I'm going to fuck you now," Tannusen breathed into Zevran's ear. "I want you to hold yourself like I am doing. You aren't allowed release until I tell you you can have it. Understood?"
"Y-yes," Zevran breathed, his fingers replacing Tannusen's around his flesh, squeezing himself just as tightly.
"Good," Tannu purred, and reached down to line himself up, his tip nudging at that tight ring of muscle. "Look to the right, Zevran," he whispered, waiting for the other man to obey, for the sharp, startled gasp from both men as their eyes suddenly met. Tannusen pressed forward, sliding inside in one slow, insistent thrust forward until he was buried completely inside Zevran's clenching, blazing heat, muffling a soft moan into the back of the other man's neck.
His gaze flicked to the side, found Alistair staring, his face still scarlet, his breathing shallow and fast. The chantry-raised Warden may never admit it to himself, but he was clearly aroused.
"Tell him how it feels, Zevran," Tannusen whispered, slowly drawing back and then almost-leisurely pushing forward again. Having just recently had release, he didn't feel nearly as urgent for another, even with the red-hot display Zevran made of his submission, armored chest and arms pressed tight to the wall in front of them. "Tell him what it's like, to be fucked against a wall in public like this, wide open and exposed."
"Ahh," Zevran groaned out, clearly fighting for coherence, "so good... so good... please, I have no words..."
Tannusen reached down in front of the other man, tugged at his wrist to draw him forward... he unbuckled the chastity belt from around Zevran's waist, letting the hardened leather hit the ground. His fingertips found the tip of the steel rod inside the other man, tugged the ring free of his tip once more, stroking the smooth metal out and back in again to match his own slow thrusts.
Zevran threw his head back, panting raggedly, loudly in the evening air, his hips shifting fitfully, clearly not sure which way he wanted to press. His fingers remained obediently around himself, conveniently holding himself steady for the slow thrust of steel.
"Beautiful, Zevran," Tannusen purred, nibbling at his ear. "Look how nicely you dance for me..." his own hips flexed slowly still, the tight slide of Zevran around him making him wish to never end it.
But he had to, eventually.
"M-maker," he eventually heard Alistair whisper, pulling him from his almost trance-like state of slow thrusts and the flex of his fingers on the rod. The human's eyes were glued on Zevran's face, and Tannu craned his head to one side to see as well, licking away the overwhelmed tears he found streaming down the Antivan's nearest cheek.
The pressure tightened just a little at Alistair's hissing breath, the sound of the man shifting in place as though his armor was just a bit... uncomfortable.
Tannusen dropped the sounding rod, the warm metal swinging to lay against Zevran's thigh by the chain still hooked through his armor. He thrust in, hard, and again, harder, and hissed his command into the other man's ear even as he came apart inside the rippling, clenching heat, spilling deep within as Zevran thrashed against him, letting go, his body jerking, arcing--
The shouting drew attention.
Staring eyes, gasps about the guard, running feet... Tannusen slumped against Zevran, pinning him to the wall as they both shuddered and shook in place, sweaty hair in faces and knees barely holding them up.
"Just so you know?" Tannu purred, placing a kiss against the back of Zevran's neck. "I look forward to your revenge."
That earned him an exhausted, deep chuckle, and Tannusen finally pulled back, letting Zevran's armored skirt fall back into place, tucking himself back into his own clothing and straightening his robes before bending to retrieve the chastity belt from the ground. "As handsome as Seargeant Kylon may be," he added with a sigh, "I don't want to spend the night in his jail when he feels obligated to arrest us. Better plans, tonight."
"Indeed?" Zevran smiled, watching Tannusen with an almost calculating gleam to his eyes, "Then we should go get started on those plans."
"Let's," Tannu grinned tiredly, and began to lead the way out of the gap between buildings, grabbing Alistair's arm on the way out. "You may wish to relocate as well," he purred as the man flushed anew at the sudden contact, "unless you wish to answer questions about what you saw?"
Tannusen laughed and threw his arm around Zevran's shoulders, and the two elves meandered down the mostly-empty street towards the inn together, their knees far too wobbly for running. It was doubtful Kylon would rush to the scene, anyway.