Emet-Selch groaned as he was roughly pushed against the tree, gloved hands scrabbling to find purchase on the bark. The miqo'te was not being gentle as he dug his nails into his hips and leaned in to bite at his earlobe.
"You--mm--truly have no tact, oh great hero..." he grumbled under his breath, glancing back to see the confused mess of emotions on the scholar's face.
It looked like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling, but it was clear arousal was in there somewhere as he felt his hardness rubbing against him. Emet didn't get a response to his teasing, which prompted a dramatic eye roll.
"I come here, spill my most personal secrets and feelings and all you can think about is fucking me."
Finally, he spoke.
"I don't know what I want." Zana'a confessed, tail swaying slowly from side to side, voice trailing off. It sounded like he had something more to say but wasn't going to give a voice to it.
Emet-Selch snorted derisively, pushing back against him forcefully. As if his body wasn't betraying him completely. Of course, he could understand hiding something away; a secret thought or word unable to be expressed. But this was absolutely ridiculous. From what he had gleaned from their interactions, this was a sharp tempered man with limited patience when it came to others. But there was a sense of desperation now, unlike what he'd seen before.
"Then what, exactly, are you doing? What are you hoping to gain from this little..." Emet paused and waved his hand vaguely, "Experience?"
It was obvious how much Zana'a hated saying the words:
"I don't know."
Emet-Selch couldn't help but laugh, and in response the nails dug further into him and his cheek was rewarded with a particularly deep bite to his neck. He felt the hot sting of skin breaking and blood beading on the surface. He made a mental note on how long and sharp the scholar's fangs were. He found it surprisingly to his liking and rewarded Zana'a with a low moan of encouragement. This time it wasn't mocking.
He had never even thought to humor the thought of him and the warrior of light. It was an asinine concept that he would have dismissed outright. And yet...
Something in his body was stirring, besides the ache starting to spread through his loins. Before his mind could wander and reflect too deeply, he was reminded yet again of the presence of the warrior behind him. He was growing increasingly forward and needy as one hand slowly shifted towards his front, trailing from his stomach and lower. He barely ghosted over his growing erection and moved onto his thigh.
Emet gave a dramatic sigh, rolling his shoulders in a shrug, acting as if this was the greatest inconvenience he had faced to date.
"Really, you are boring me with this teasing. If you're going to go for it, get on with it."
He caught himself by surprise with the playful attitude he was taking with this and gave a laugh to himself. It was becoming more and more obvious this man had never touched another, and the more he fumbled with his belt, and then his own clothes, he mused that he might have never touched himself either.
"...Wipe that obnoxious smirk off your face." Zana'a snapped, turning red as he met with those calculating gold eyes, a mischievous glint sparkling in them.
"Well, well, awfully pushy for a virgin, aren't we?" he retorted, but still took a moment to aid the poor man in removing his layers of clothes.
"Do you ever stop talking?!"
Emet-Selch just inclined his head to the side. Zana'a huffed, his temper clearly rising. That was the warrior he had seen and watched. A bad attitude with a barbed tongue. It made the teasing much more fun. The reactions were far better than he had anticipated being in this moment, as well.
Finally, he was exposed to the cool air of the woods, the newly reborn nighttime hiding them from prying eyes and chilling the air far more than before. It was refreshing and he could feel a shiver run through the man behind him.
There was a moment of stillness. Nothing happening, a pregnant pause between them.
Emet-Selch snorted and smirked.
"Don't tell me... you don't know where to go from here?"
It was clear the miqo'te was fed up with his snark and back talking and wouldn't stand another second of it. Something clearly raw and primal welled up inside him and he pushed himself flat against the ascian's back, grinding hard.
He didn't get another word out, as Emet-Selch felt gloved fingers pushing against his lips, into his mouth to press down and still his tongue. He let out a strange noise, startled, and bit down without thinking. This caused Zana'a to withdraw his hand immediately, hissing loudly but not pushing to try again. He is sure he heard a small 'bastard...' under his breath and that made him pleased.
"...Why are you hesitating to try again? Don't be a coward, now, my dear boy~" Emet crooned, shamelessly opening his mouth to tempt him to put his fingers in again. He was half considering biting down once more if he did; it would definitely be funny.
Zana'a was far too proud to not take the bait, and being called a coward infuriated him. He went to gag him with his fingers again, pushing his face against his neck and giving another sharp bite. This time he took a moment to run his tongue along the mark, nose wrinkling at the taste of the blood but enjoying what his teeth left behind.
Emet-Selch was thrown off, feeling his legs tremble the way they did at this. There was something sickeningly enticing about all of this. Between being gagged, bitten and fondled so clumsily, and by the warrior of all people...it was starting to appeal to him more and more.
He moved his tongue against the fingers in his mouth, not biting down this time but playing with them and giving an enticing moan. This spurred Zana'a on, his free hand wandering, groping around and testing where was best to touch him. Emet wasn't exactly toned, or built, contrasting to the lean but sturdy build of the miqo'te. Still, it was clear the man found him enticing regardless of his frame. Fingers brushed below his navel, and followed their way down, and stilled completely, pausing before taking him in hand.
The ascian let out a particularly undignified groan, having half a mind to bite down again to make him get a move on. This time, Zana'a laughed, not moving an inch. He leaned in, fangs tracing the shell of his ear, murmuring quietly.
"Don't have anything to say now, do you?" His voice was barely audible, a low growl with a more commanding tone than he thought possible out of this inexperienced mess of a man.
The look Emet gave him clearly said he definitely had a thing or two to comment, but he was firmly gagged and clearly enjoying it. He hadn't been on the bottom in a good long while and was relishing it. And being out in the open, well...
Any thoughts were cut short as he finally felt himself being grasped and given a slow, deliberate stroke. It had been far too long since he felt the touch of someone else like this and even at the hands of someone as inexperienced as this, it still was welcome. The texture of the glove, and the warmth he radiated was more than enjoyable and once again, he rewarded Zana'a with sounds of pleasure.
"...Do that again." Zana'a ordered, sounding far too confident for someone who had clearly never even had the thought of jacking off cross his mind.
Emet-Selch played dumb, and shrugged his shoulders. Of course he'd make him spell it out. Admit it, say it, he was desperate to hear this noble virgin warrior have to say something so dirty.
"Hmmmm...?" Even gagged, his attitude was dripping with mischief as he craned his neck to the side to look back.
Zana'a huffed, ears flicking with agitation - Emet found he really liked that and wasn't particularly sure why - and he spoke plainly, without shame this time.
"Moan for me. Louder."
Emet purposefully took a moment as if he was mulling it over, watching the expression on his face. Any conflict that had been there earlier had melted away in favor of a heated desire, and he noted he was starting to pant, eyes half-lidded and teeth bared. He looked like a feral beast in heat that was going to take him right then and there.
So he moaned, and loudly. He wasn't concerned about being caught, and didn't particularly care. It wouldn't be his reputation on the line. Zana'a was obviously pleased and started a painfully slow rhythm, breathing heavily against the back of his neck as he jacked him off. He was now completely silent, drinking in every moan he was pulling from Emet. He hadn't even begun to tend to himself.
He stopped his strokes for a few moments every so often, almost curiously exploring his member. Lightly running his fingers along the underside, squeezing his balls, teasing the tip. He seemed constantly desperate to learn, hungry for knowledge, even now. Even with something like this.
Slowly he pulled his fingers from Emet's mouth, an almost embarrassingly excessive trail of drool following after. He wiped it off on the man's front shamelessly and almost nuzzled against his neck. This was of course a mistake on his part, as Emet immediately started his commentary.
"Aren't you going to play with yourself a little, too? Or do you not know how?" he taunted, completely omitting the very solid opinion that he was very much enjoying the handjob he was getting.
He didn't get a response and that made him pause. That wasn't what he was expecting, and he tried one more time.
"Silence sounds like an admission~ Whatever shall I do with you?"
Zana'a was starting to growl again and that pleased Emet greatly. It was an arousing sound and he pushed his body back against him, shifting his legs so the miqo'te's erection was rubbing between his thighs.
"You want to feel good too, don't you~?" he continued, listening to the rumbling in his chest grew louder.
The stroking stopped and he quickly found himself deprived of the touch he was truly starting to enjoy. It made him give an annoyed sigh, rolling his eyes and turning around dramatically, as if to emphasize what an inconvenience this is.
"Really now, just because you feel incompetent in your own pleasure doesn't mean you have to deny me mine. You are the one who seemed so desperate to feel me up, as well." Emet was laying it on thick, but really, who did this mortal think he was? He was aching now, uncomfortably so.
"Is the answer still 'I don't know?'"
The silence bothered him, but his curiosity was piqued by the new expression on Zana'a's face. Thoughtful, calculating, as if he was working through something. Finally, it was clear what he settled on.
"Pleasure me." This was an order, plain and simple. Not a request to teach, but a command to get him off.
The rebellious streak never rested with Emet-Selch and he sneered, moving closer and pressing himself against Zana'a, chest to chest, rubbing their cocks together teasingly.
"What if I say no?"
That made Zana'a look away, and he said nothing. He was being far more respectful than his attitude deserved and he gave a sigh, purposefully heavy and waved his hand dismissively.
"Oh don't act like that. I'll tend to you, warrior. Mayhaps you will learn a thing or two~" he just about sang.
Emet-Selch had lived hundreds of lives, raised empires, brought down countries, and everything one could think of. And now here he was, running his hands over the man who was destined to fight him and his kind. Here he was, slowly kneeling down and glancing up at him, a defiant look still in his eyes as he complied with the order he was given.
Here was the great Garlean emperor, the powerful Emet-Selch, kneeling and running his mouth along Zana'a's thighs. He watched with piercing blue eyes, ears now perked forward and the fur on his tail fluffed up more than before, every touch made him clench his jaw. He clearly wasn't used to this.
Judging by his personality, he probably wasn't used to any human contact outside the roegadyn that he always had with him, trailing after like a dog. Poor friendless fool, he mused, almost pitying him. A lonely existence that he could feel himself resonating with in a distant way. The twinge of emotion spurred him to leave a soft kiss and slowly drag his lips more delicately over his skin.
Zana'a didn't say anything, focused on watching his actions, but he lifted a hand to touch Emet's hair, brushing it back a little. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes and there was a sudden uncomfortable level of intimacy between the two. It cast a new weight behind everything, and Zana'a surely must have realized it as well. His expression wavered for a moment, a flash of uncertainty, before glancing away.
As he went to pull his hand away, there was a strange ache within Emet that wanted it back, and craved the touch again. Maybe it was because it had been so long, and he himself was more touch starved than he realized, or perhaps he was in a good enough mood to humor him. The thought of the former disturbed him and he tried to put it far from his mind.
Before he could pull his hand fully away, Emet leaned into the touch with a coy grin on his face. Zana'a froze, but hesitantly returned to stroking his hair, thumb stroking his head cautiously. The tender touch against the still-sharp pain of the bite wounds he had inflicted were mingling together interestingly.
"I can't tell if you want it rough or not~" murmured Emet, mouthing at his hardness, never once breaking eye contact, "I don't particularly mind if you do, however."
This was less an invitation and more giving permission. Who was he to stifle his creativity and exploration of what would seem to be his newly discovered urges. It was endearing watching him figure everything out for the first time and try to take charge. Zana'a frowned and Emet smiled in return. He found himself thinking about how cute it looked when he looked bothered. When an ear flicked in agitation. He didn't need to tease as much as he had been doing but he couldn't help it at this point. The reactions were making him feel some kind of way.
Finally his mouth reached its mark, and without hesitation or ceremony, licked a stripe up from base to tip. Zana'a's jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth, trying to bite back a moan. It got caught in his throat and he made a decidedly ungraceful noise which made him look away, a scowl on his face. Emet gave another lick, determined to pull a sound from him whether he wanted to or not.
"Fuck..." he hissed, ears folding flat back. It was clear from the blush rising on his face he was enjoying it, even after barely being touched.
Emet-Selch was truly enjoying teasing him, but that one word sent a heat through his body. His now unattended hard- on aching desperately. He reached one hand down to give himself a stroke as he started to circle his tongue on the tip of zana'a's dick. In return, Zana'a inhaled sharply and clenched the hand in his hair.
"...Stop touching yourself."
This one he was reluctant to oblige. He was already submitting to so much, why should he be sacrificing his pleasure in favor of only servicing him? His eyebrows knitted together in annoyance and he huffed, but didn’t stop moving his mouth, now slowly taking the tip in.
His voice caught in his throat and it came out as a strange stammer, and Emet hummed in return as he slowly worked his way down, tongue running along the underside and giving a soft suck. For once he had no ulterior motives or schemes, but he still mused that this must seem like a truly kind, altruistic deed on his behalf. He was clearly in the warrior's good graces already.
Withdrawing, he licked his lips and looked up with a crooked smile.
"Stop?" he inquired, giving him another lick while waiting for further instruction. He could play an obedient role if desired.
"...No. Don't stop." The man was getting muddled with the pleasure, shaking his head and using the hand tangled in his hair to guide his mouth back down. This sent a shiver down his spine and he let himself be taken to where Zana'a wanted him to go. He didn't resist getting slowly pushed down, either. Letting go of control wasn't always so bad. He swallowed him down easily; thousands of years of practice had its perks, of course.
The heat of his mouth, the warmth and wetness, was clearly getting to his partner, as he shuddered and gently pushed his hips forward experimentally. He looked down to see what Emet's reaction and got an approving moan. This was enough for him to start slowly fucking his face, groaning loudly and tangling his other hand in his hair. His tail was swishing back and forth faster. He wasn't being as quiet as he had been before anymore, some particularly lewd and shameless noises tumbling out of him.
He wasn't completely lax, of course, hand trailing up and down his thighs, circling around to grope at his ass, rub at the base of his tail. The latter action caused him to snap his hips forward a lot more suddenly; clearly he enjoyed that. He would tuck that knowledge away for later.
With how he was panting, how inconsistent and sloppy his thrusts were getting, it was plain he wasn't going to last much longer. Zana'a was biting his lip now, blood beading up, clearly trying to hold back as best he could. He didn't want this feeling to end. Emet put his hands against his hip to push him away and pulled his mouth off, leaving with a vulgar, wet 'pop.' He licked his lips slowly, eyes burning with a desire he hadn't felt in a while. He had this man in the palm of his hand, his pleasure belonged to him.
"...Against...the tree." Zana'a managed to choke out, panting heavily and looking more and more like a beast every second that went by.
Emet laughed and shook his head as he got back to his feet, dusting the dirt from his knees. There were now small cuts and rocks pressed into the skin from kneeling and he tutted in annoyance before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.
"If you're going to mount me and try to breed me, or whatever you feral cats do, you better be intending to take care of everything beforehand~"
He was met with a blank stare, ears flat against his head and it was almost like he wasn't listening all the way. Emet sighed heavily, shaking his head. He had to do everything, didn't he? A single snap of his fingers was all it took. It was an easy enough image to make, an unlabeled bottle which he offered to the miqo'te with a short instruction.
"Spread me until you think I'm ready, use this." It was simple enough and something about the statement seemed to have made something click.
The liquid was dribbled over his fingers and he rubbed them carefully against his ass, circling his entrance before starting to thoroughly prep him. Stretching him, carefully and slowly, ensuring he was nice and slick, ready to receive him. Zana'a took his time, taking the lead once again. As all the time had gone by, he had developed a new confidence, his need to be in charge now leaking into this. Emet submitted to this willingly. His body was shaking and he was drooling again, once again gripping the bark and looking back, enjoying the sight of watching himself be fingered. One....two, three. He was really bold, experimentally moving his fingers inside, curling and brushing against him just right. Electricity jumped through his nerves and he let his head drop between his arms, letting out a shuddering breath.
"Enough...Please. Enough." he murmured and this time, Zana'a was the one who was amused.
He sounded as arrogant as he usually did, the taunting grin audible in his voice as he took the chance to mock him.
"Oh? Resorting to begging for me? All that big talk means nothing in the end...Emperor, Ascian, I don't care what you are," he was whispering this into his ear as he lined himself up, very carefully, "Right now, all you are is mine."
The words came out without immediate meaning, outside of dirty talk. It definitely worked to set them both off, Zana'a pushing in without anymore hesitating or dancing around it. Emet groaned loudly at the intrusion, flexing his fingers and finding his legs shaking. While this body was younger than he had been in recent years, it still wasn't on the same level as Zana'a. The force at which he thrust into him was more than he anticipated, now with seemingly all the confidence in the world.
It had to be instincts, a deep need, with how desperately he seemed to be to bury himself in his ass. Arms wrapped around him and he could feel claws pressing through the gloves into his skin, he was gripping so hard. The scholar left bites and sucked on his skin until there were bruises, without thought or reason. He was clearly completely lost in the moment.
Every touch drew more sounds from the two of them. Emet loved feeling as full as he did, and was drooling shamelessly, sweat dripping down his face and onto the ground. Gloved hands found his cock and began to stroke him as they did before, squeezing tighter but not quite able to match the rhythm of the thrusts. He still wasn't as good as he could be, but he felt his hips ache in a way that they hadn't in the longest time.
Zana'a's tail was thrashing back and forth violently now, and shameless filth tumbled from his mouth.
"I'm going to finish inside you, and you'll like it."
"Moan for me. Make those filthy noises."
Expletives, growls and moans. He was like a man possessed with something new, a passion ignited in him. And it was clear they both were reaching the end of the line. Emet was pushing back to meet every thrust eagerly, happy to make as much noise as was ordered. The obscene sounds between them were making him ache with arousal, precum dribbling down Zana'a's hands as he pumped it faster and squeezed lightly.
Emet-Selch knew exactly what he was going to say before he cut himself off with a drawn out moan and one final strong thrust, hips twitching as he felt a rush of heat released inside him. Thick, sticky cum painting his insides and making him feel pleasantly full. It took him a few more pumps to finally follow suit, biting his lip as he spilled over the gloved hand and onto the forest floor. The ascian thrust his hips until he had been milked of every last drop, and felt Zana'a slump against his back, chest heaving as he started to come back to his senses.
It was a curious gesture he followed up with, putting his fingers one final time to Emet's mouth. He smirked, eyeing the messy hand, dripping with his own cum.
He leaned forward and lapped it up, uninterested in the taste, but the act of submission intrigued him and he found it pleasing in the moment.
And it clearly had pleased his partner, as he heard a strange crackling in his ear as he felt his nose nudge against his neck. It took a few moments to realize the noise was a broken purr, probably sounding like that from a lack of use.
They stayed like that for a few more moments before Zana'a pulled out and took a short step back, footing a little unsure but still standing. He cleared his throat, suddenly looking surprisingly bashful and trying to seem casual and dismissive of what just happened. Emet turned around to face him and cocked his head to the side.
"Is the great warrior satisfied now?"
He was met with that familiar silence, then a brief incline of his head.
"It was...good." he acknowledged, locking eyes again and drawing himself up to a confident position. He had been struggling to find where he felt he was in this entire thing, but now there was something different about him.
Emet-Selch returned with a sound of agreement and stepped closer as he began to pull his clothes back on, sorting himself out and smoothing his hair down. He had no reason to, aside from a whim, to reach out and gently stroke the scholar's face experimentally to see his reaction.
He was rewarded with that familiar scowl and he found himself enjoying it a lot more.
"Then perhaps we should do this more, my dear."
Zana'a tensed at being called that and the corner of his lips tugged up into a weird expression that he couldn't find a word to describe. He grunted in acknowledgement, and seeming agreement as he began to clothe himself as well. This had taken far longer than anticipated, and he was clearly going to be very late getting back to the Crystarium.
Emet found himself hoping that it had been worth it to him.
As Zana'a turned away, as bad with goodbyes as always, he stopped for a moment. He didn't look at Emet when he made a sudden request.
"Call me that again."
With a jokingly flippant wave to bid farewell, Emet replied.
"I will see you soon...my dear~"