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After seeing W’ynter on her way, Estinien took some time for himself. Standing silent sentinel before the polished stone that marked Harchefaunt’s final resting place. There were no words to be said - at least not aloud - that had not been spoken before. In those rare instances where he found himself possessed of an overabundance of verbage. It was easier, he had found, to pour his heart out to a cold stone than another living creature. Aymeric being the exception, with W’ynter a close second. But even so, he could remember a handful of times he had - like her - sought out the solitary companionship of this place and eschewed the company of even those two.
Sometimes...silence was just better, and sometimes it allowed you to see things more clearly. Or perhaps it was his conversation with the emotionally floundering Warriour of Light that had him feeling...nostalgic wasn’t exactly the word. Instead, his thoughts were on himself. When he had camped out here so long ago and tried to talk himself out of his own fears and hangups. If he had only known then even an iota of the precious life they shared now… well, he supposed that was the point; if he had known, then he wouldn’t have been moved to overcome himself and take that chance.
Stepping forward, he reached one hand to brush the accumulated snow from the top of the smooth marble with a faint smile. “You would be happy for her, old friend. I know you loved her as well, and she loved you. You would find joy in her happiness with him. And then you would insist on throwing a party for them both.”
His palm lingered for a moment against the cool slab of stone as he allowed himself the regret that their friend - like so many others - was not here to share in the happiness and peace that Ishgard had found. He who had fought so hard for it. But those thoughts led down a darker spiral and Estinien shook himself out of it as he pulled his hand away with a wan smile. “Rest well, old friend. I’ll visit again soon.” One day perhaps they would bring Yasha, and share with her the story of their fallen comrade. But not today. Turning back from the stone, he set off down the rise, following the fading prints W’ynter had left in the snow. Tracing the same winding path back to the central aetheryte in Foundation and turning to make his way towards the Firmament.
Or at least...that was what he would have done had Estinien not found himself accosted - or as close to it that anyone would dare - by a rather flustered looking knight. At the man’s stammered greeting, the dragoon simply raised an eyebrow with an expression that suggested he would do well to spit out whatever it was so he could remove himself from Estinien’s presence posthaste. And as much as he wanted to enjoy the way the knight’s colour blanched and he stumbled over his words, those thoughts went out of the window as he processed those words.
“S….ser Estinien...ser.... You are...are...ordered to report to the seat of the Lord Commander...immediately….”
He must have heard that wrong. Ordered to his husband’s office? Ordered like some...some wet behind the ears cadet? His soft growl had the knight biting back a whimper, and some part of Estinien reasoned with a malicious smirk that if he tried much at all...the poor sod would most likely soil himself. But as viciously amusing as that might have been, he was too focused on this ‘order’. It was obviously not a joke being played on him by this poor sap of a youth, barely out of his teens. The man was quite obviously terrified and that didn’t suggest any falsehood on his part. Which meant that he had either misinterpreted or embellished - also unlikely - those orders...or Estinien’s husband thought himself quite ‘funny’.
Toying with the idea of just ignoring this ridiculous demand, the dragoon turned the possibilities over in his head. Most likely it was just that; Aymeric thinking himself far more humorous than he actually was, which meant that ignoring it would just serve to egg his husband on. Which left him with only one real option; stalk into that office and remind Ishgard’s leader that while Azure Dragoon he may have once been, he took no one’s orders anymore, least of all Lord Aymeric de Borel’s. He turned his back on the stammering knight with another growl that had the younger man biting back a yelp as he visibly shivered and watched Estinien stalk off towards his destination.
Focusing on the ridiculous ‘order’ as he walked only had his ire growing, and red eyes were sparking as he ground sharpened teeth with every clench of his jaw. Taking the steps two at a time and ignoring the fact that the guards normally outside the door were suspiciously absent, he stormed into the office with a snarl. “I am ordered to report here? If you think me one of your underlings to be managed, then by the Fury I’ll…”
Words trailed off and his eyes widened as he took in the sight of his husband. Lounging back in his office chair, one dark brow raised in a challenging look...in nothing but that blue and gold brocade coat he always wore. Estinien’s eyes raked their way down that sizable gap between the halves of fabric, dragging over toned muscle, the ridges of Aymeric’s abdominals and lower. Swallowing back a hungry purr as he took in what was on display for him. But it was the look in those blue eyes that had his throat tightening and his mouth going dry as Aymeric shifted just enough to give a hint of haughtiness in the set of his face before he spoke. “You’ll…what, ser dragoon?”
The authoritative tone in his voice sent a shiver up Estinien’s spine and he swallowed hard as one hand groped to push the door closed behind him. Shoving the heavy bolt of the lock into place as he closed the distance to drop down to one knee in front of his husband. Eyes never leaving those blue ones as he spoke. “My...apologies, my lord. I spoke out of turn… I am, as always... ever at your service.”
“Are you, then?” Aymeric replied, his voice a deep purr as he reached to graze fingertips along one horn and down the side of Estinien’s face. Skimming them over ebony scales as the dragoon shivered, his thumb stroking the angle of Estinien’s jaw before they twisted themselves into the base of his thick white braid and yanked. Pulling him forward and almost off balancing him. “Your behaviour a few moments ago would suggest otherwise, as would your words. In fact… I believe I have a better use for your mouth.”
Biting back a whimper at the words, Estinien didn’t protest at all as he felt his husband’s fingers tighten in his hair before his head was shoved down onto Aymeric’s cock and he moaned around his sudden mouthful. Aymeric groaned low in his throat as he clenched his fingers harder into pale hair, angling Estinien’s head and holding him in place as he rocked his own hips to thrust into that mouth. Using it in a way he knew drove the dragoon half mad. And even if he hadn’t known the effect it had on Estinien when he behaved like this..when he took control and demanded... the whimpered moans that vibrated over his cock would have been enough to clue him in.
“M...much….better….” Aymeric purred amidst hitched breaths as he forced Estinien’s head down farther, moaning as he felt the dragoon adjust his throat just enough to allow Aymeric to slip even deeper, tongue teasing and playing against the underside with every thrust that Aymeric made into his mouth. His other hand shifted to trace deliberate circles against the horn on the other side of Estinien’s head and he smirked as he watched red eyes almost roll back as the dragoon gave another shuddering whimper. “Undress yourself….”
Curse and bless Aymeric for knowing exactly how to play him, and Estinien whined around his mouthful as shaking hands went to work on his armour. Fumbling with the fasteners as every stroke of his husband’s thumb against his horn sent another tremor through him. As often as he was the dominant one in their lovemaking, nothing set him quite on edge as it did when Aymeric took the opportunity to wrest control from him. To use that authoritative tone and manner...to be the Lord Commander and not the beloved husband, and to make Estinien pleasure him before he was allowed to find his own release. He’d pondered once that perhaps it was because of their mutual trust, or because it was so rare that he gave up control...or just because that tone of Aymeric’s voice was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard and it sent chills racing up his spine. Whatever the reason, he was more than content to obey every order his bluebird gave when they were like this.
One piece of armour fell to the stone floor with the clang, then another, then another, and Aymeric watched as Estinien managed to squirm his way out of it until he was naked and on his knees. Trembling slightly as his head was held in place and his mouth was fucked mercilessly. It was a beautiful sight, and Aymeric allowed himself to savor it before he pulled Estinien’s head up to meet his eyes. Taking in those swollen lips and the haze of desire in red eyes as he gently brushed his thumb against his husband’s cheek. “Well done. Now…”
Pushing himself up from the chair, he pulled Estinien to his feet as well before spinning the dragoon around and bending him over the desk. Twisting his fingers around that long plait as his other hand snagged a small bottle of oil out of the drawer. But rather than pouring it onto his fingers, he pressed the bottle into the dragoon’s hand with a smirk. “Get yourself ready for me… And do a good job; I’ll be watching.”
Estinien’s eyes widened as he heard the creak of the chair as Aymeric sat back down. Glancing over his shoulder to see those blue eyes locked on him as the dark-haired man wrapped fingers around his own cock with a lazy stroke and a soft groan. “Now I won’t ask again…” Swallowing down another moan at the realization that Aymeric meant it; he was going to sit right there and watch, Estinien unstoppered the bottle with shaking fingers to slick them up before reaching back to tease one fingertip against his entrance. Keeping his gaze on Aymeric as he pressed it slowly into himself. Unable to completely muffle the needy whine as he began to work it in and out of himself. Pressing further and harder as he worked in a second finger and curled them. His entire body jerked as he found the spot he’d been looking for, choking out another moan as he spread and scissored them. Focused less on the pleasure he was giving himself and more on following his orders. His knees almost buckling when he heard Aymeric growl ‘another’ at him and he complied. Slipping in a third finger as he thrust them harder, faster, opening himself up as his free hand clenched the edge of the desk for some sort of grounding. “P...please....”
It was all that Aymeric could do to stay seated and watch Estinien. Watch those long fingers as they buried themselves over and over into his husband’s tight entrance. Long, sleekly muscled form shuddering and trembling as every thrust of fingers forced him a little bit closer towards that edge. His own hand moved at much the same pace, keeping time with the slide of Estinien’s fingers until he had to squeeze hard to force back his own impending climax. Not yet. But it was the whimpered plea that made up his mind for him, and Aymeric was glad Estinien wouldn’t notice that he wasn’t the only one trembling as he stood up and gripped his husband’s wrist to pull those fingers free. Twisting his free hand back around that snowy braid and yanking it taut, he gripped the dragoon’s hips and lined himself up before sliding in in one long, deep thrust.
He could barely feel that his nails had clawed and were digging into the edge of the desk, and he rather thought that neither of them cared about it at this moment. Being bent over the desk like this meant Aymeric could go even deeper, and Estinien moaned his name as every snap of his husband’s hips filled him so deeply and slammed right into his prostate. Digging his fingers into the desk, he tried to push back, to increase the pace and drive up the friction only to have his head yanked back by Aymeric’s grip on his hair. “No...you get...what I choose to give you…” His lord purred as he kept his tight grip on white hair. Keeping Estinien’s head pulled back in such a way that he was powerless to do anything other then hang on as Aymeric began to speed up. Thrusting harder and faster as he leaned over to trace his tongue along one black horn before closing his mouth around it with a moan.
He had been teetering near the edge already, but the sensation of that hot mouth closing over his horn shoved Estinien almost over it. Clawed fingers scrabbling at the desk as he choked out a cry of Aymeric’s name and his eyes rolled back into his head. The feel of Aymeric’s mouth around his horn, that tongue licking and teasing as the suction of wet heat pulled at every inch felt as though it was transmitted directly to his aching cock. It was like being fucked and sucked off at the same time and Estinien’s knees buckled as he sobbed out Aymeric’s name again. Knowing he wouldn’t last, he couldn’t last, he was too raw, too on edge, too desperate. He was going to crash over the edge and shatter apart because Aymeric was wrecking him and he wanted nothing more as he sacrificed any shreds of pride and begged for it. Gasping out whimpered moans and pleas that only earned him a harder thrust into his prostate.
He knew how close Estinien was, he could feel it in every shudder and trembling spasm of the body beneath him, could hear it in the desperate moans and cries of his name, the pleas for release. Every one of them made it that much harder for him to hold back himself, and Aymeric sucked on Estinien’s horn harder as his free hand slid from his husband’s hip to wrap around his cock. One, two strokes and a swipe of his thumb against the head and he felt Estinien break with a gasping cry of his name. Hips jerking as Aymeric squeezed and stroked him through it, chasing his own climax as he continued to bury himself inside the dragoon. Following him over that edge within a few more thrusts with a groan of his own.
Body and nerves - and mind - were so overloaded from the intensity of his orgasm that Estinien had no idea how long it had been when he became conscious of gentle fingers kneading at his back and sides. Soft kisses drifting across his shoulders as Aymeric did his best not to rest his weight entirely on his husband, letting the desk support them as he nuzzled against the angle of Estinien’s jaw. “So….what was that….about not taking orders?”