Chapter Text
He’d give Shin everything if he could. Silks and jewels, libraries of books and paper so fine it slips through one’s fingers as smooth as smoke– if he’d just accept. It’d only be right. Shin gave him everything years ago, he’s made him everything he is. And besides. Wolfgang loves him. That’s reason enough.
He can only hope Shin accepts this as he kneels between Shin’s legs, kissing the crease of his knee. Shin flushes watching him. His glasses are still askew, too riveted by the sight to think to right them. The beaded cord securing them to his neck rattles as he draws in an unsteady breath. He flinches when Wolfgang’s lips meet the crux of his thighs.
“Sire–” But, heh. He’s got a lot less room in him for embarrassment when Wolfgang gives the skin there a little suck. Most days Shin doesn’t have much of a scent, or a taste even. Skin, sure. But soapy clean, like everything that’s him has been dutifully washed away. Here, Wolfgang can fill his lungs with heat and sweat and want, like breathing in proof Shin’s flesh and blood. He knows Shin’s only human. He knows he wants, he can feel it every time, in the burn of Shin’s fingers at his hips as Shin thrusts into him. It thrills Wolfgang that he alone can wrest it from him.
“Let me do this for you,” he asks, because at the end of the day Shin has shaped him well. He illustrates with a drag of his tongue along him and can feel the shifting of muscle under his hands as Shin relaxes into his hold. Two, and three, and more, and Shin’s raking a hand through his hair, over and over until its neat lacquer can no longer endure.
He kisses at Shin just to feel him shiver. Wolfgang wants to press his tongue inside him, wants to twist at him within until he’s turned him inside-out. No titles, no damned rules, no nothing standing between them anymore. It should be easy– natural, just like taking Shin’s hand. Shin deserves that.