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When the confines of the Crystal Tower proved stifling, the Cabinet of Curiosity had long become the Exarch’s refuge. It felt like home. Its floor-to-malms-high shelves stacked with books. The small, tucked away chairs that hid between them.
So it saw to reason that Emet-Selch would choose this haven to corner him so.
He forced his gaze every which way but to the Ascian's handsome face, clutching a large grimoire to his chest, back to a shelf. As if it would save him from the others' advances.
"Emet-Selch," he stuttered as he finally found his voice, having pulled himself from a sudden kiss with some chagrin, his cheeks hot. "I would not usually state the obvious so bluntly, but we are in a public library."
"I am aware."
Of course you are. He thought, finally meeting that lazy amber gaze. Though they had been lovers for a short while now, he still found himself shrinking under the weight of his attraction to the man.
"If you are so aware, then I ask you to not kiss me so obviously where we might be seen!"
The Ascian tilted his head, dark and white bangs shifting over his eyes. The Exarch could practically see the scheming happening behind them.
"Please, it is the dead of night, there is little chance of us being interrupted."
"So long as there is a chance, it is not a risk I’m willing to take." The Exarch replied, resolute. There were enough rumours abounding of them as it was. “Besides, I did not take you for a hormonal school-boy.” It was an underhanded reply, but he hoped the insinuation the Ascian lacked maturity would stop his hounding. It did not. The sound of him snapping his fingers was deafening, the distinct scent of dark aether lingering. The Exarch stared at him. “What-?”
“There is now no chance for us to be seen, and no risk in us continuing.”
“A-ah..” Of course. Show the Ascian a hurdle and he would snap his fingers to magick it away.
He relented as he was kissed once more, pushed back against the bookcase, Emet-Selch’s hand grasping at the layers of his robes. He was embarrassed by how quickly his body gave over to desire, his grimoire thudding to the floor as he discarded it in favour of Emet’s kingly mantle, pushing himself onto his tip-toes.
“You’re sure, no one-?” He breathed as his lover nipped playfully at his neck, biting what flesh had yet to be taken by crystal. His legs were jittering beneath him.
“I’m very sure,” Emet purred. He never lied. “But they can still hear you. You will simply have to be quiet.”
The Exarch would protest, but his nipple was being toyed with, and any words that escaped him now would be much too loud. All a part of the Ascian’s plan, no doubt.
Unable to do more, he clutched at Emet’s shoulders, breath growing laboured as his chest was groped harder, the Ascian’s mouth still occupied with the juncture of his neck. It felt too good for something so simple, but he could already feel the aching beginning between his legs, the want to press himself against his lover. He moaned.
“Already?” Emet wondered, hand stroking down his front to slip beneath the folds of his robes, groping at the obvious arousal now tented by the fabric. The Exarch made a keening sound at the touch, severing it with a huff when he noticed his own loudness. The Ascian’s gaze was hungry.
Before he could say more, Emet had dropped down, hands lifting up his skirts and sliding up his thighs. G’raha leaned further against the shelf, the books falling sideways. His smallclothes were pulled down, and he bit his lip hard as Emet’s warm tongue licked the base of his cock.
“Wait-” He wasn’t prepared, but Emet had already taken him in his mouth, the rush of pleasure making his head spin.
It was made worse that his view was no longer blocked - he could see out and into the cabinet, suddenly all too aware of their location - the exposure of it. His adrenaline spiked, heart thumping loudly as he was pulled between the urge to hide and the pleasure he was now being granted.
The Ascian, perhaps sensing this, groped at his thighs with gloved hands, all while proving that his mouth was good for more than just verbal teasing. The Exarch’s tail twitched with every maddening drag of his lips down the base of his shaft, ears pressed against his head as he fought the urge to moan.
In his mind, he thought the what if of being caught, of Y'shtola and her aetherial sight coming upon them. Of Urianger calling for him - perhaps wandering the shelves and hearing a disparate moan from nearby.
The idea unravelled him, excited him, he realised. Just as he spilled over into Emet-Selch's mouth.
He knew he had made a noise, and it had not been quiet. His heart thumped so loudly he was surer still that even the guard outside would hear it. His legs trembled below him, threatening to buckle if it weren't for the hold the Ascian soon had him in, hand around his waist, another stroking his cheek.
It was gentle, maddening. He wanted more, but was used to him leaving once he'd satisfied his inclination to tease him, the odd occasions he stayed rare and fleeting. "I hope you aren’t bored yet, Emet-Selch?" The Exarch wondered between huffed breaths, meeting the Ascian's lidded gaze.
"Is that an invitation to continue, my dear Exarch?" the Ascian replied, tipping his chin higher. He kissed him, the Exarch tasting himself on his tongue. He hooked his arms around his neck, kissing him back with disregard, uncaring if the Ascian thought him needy. The man more than certainly knew the depth of his feelings.
"Please, Emet." He breathed against his lips, knowing well what he invited.
"Very well." The Ascian acted aloof, but his pleased smile was obvious even when he tried to hide it. "Then you will not object to my suggestions."
He knew better than to completely trust Emet-Selch when it came to most things, but their pleasurable activities were an exception to that rule. The Ascian could give and take in equal measure, as he had learned quickly in their time together. As he was learning now.
He was braced against the back of the nearby couch, the view of the library only making every touch from the other magnified. He stifled yet another moan as Emet fingered him lazily. His robes were a bunched up mess around his waist, lower half fully on display for his lover.
"H-how much longer -" He choked, cheeks so hot he thought he might burst into flames.
"Impatient today, aren't you?" the Ascian all but crooned, the velvet softness of his voice in his ear making the Exarch shudder. "If we rush, you are more than certain to make a clamorous noise."
He was right - his breath had hitched into high pitched whimpers more than once already. "That would not be a concern had you approached me in my - my chambers."
"Ah yes, where you retire too rarely. Am I to wait an age between each of our affairs, Exarch?" He sounded disappointed, his fingers thrusting further into his heat. The Exarch forced his mouth shut, unable to retort or risk making a noise. "Good."
He was all too aware of his body, of his crystalline hand that gripped the sofa upholstery, so tight he wondered if it would tear. Of Emet-Selch's touches, the grip he had on his hip - nails pressing into skin. The weight of him behind him. His tail, raised high, a desperate invitation.
The moan that escaped him when the fingers withdrew made him want to scream, teeth clamping together in retaliation to his own body. The body he tried so often to ignore, the aches and pains and exhaustion. Only it all seemed to melt away under the Ascian's touches.
To forget himself to pleasure - to think naught of the calamity he aimed to prevent, nor the ruined past he came from. It was selfishness, that which he rarely indulged in, but that he felt the Ascian was desperate to provide. For they were alike, in that regard.
Perhaps it was an act of kindness for them both.
"Emet-" he complained at the lack of him, and whimpered when his hips were gripped, tilted up for access. He obliged with the arch of his back. When he felt him at his entrance his legs began to tremble, and any thought to stifle his voice was gone as he pushed inside.
He was pressed harder against the back of the couch, his hips upper body suspended over the headrest. He would topple, if not for the arms now wrapped about his chest, the weight of Emet-Selch against his back, the fullness of him inside him.
" Very loud." Emet remarked against his ear, sounding as if he, too, was struggling to suppress his own huffs of pleasure.
He began to thrust, and the Exarch was forced to endure it, the pleasure the wracked him, the guilt of how thrilling it was. Tears welled up in his eyes from the strain of holding back his voice.
"If someone were to enter now, it would be most unfortunate." Emet-Selch said, keeping a steady pace, fingers curling through the Exarch’s loose braid.
By now, neither of them were doing a very good job of being quiet. The Exarch simply moaned in reply. Incomprehensible pleas for the Ascian to move faster and hurry up tumbling from his lips.
"Fine." The Ascian, too, was running low on patience. His grumbled tone was half-hearted at best, and his thrusts less controlled.
The Exarch pressed back against him, whimpering happily as his body was rewarded again and again with the fullness of Emet inside him. The heat of his breath against his neck, the tightness with which he held him.
Intimate despite the locale. Despite the taboo of their relationship - the impracticality of it. The Exarch had questioned his sanity over it more than once, the Ascian just as want to retreat when things seemed too serious.
But not this time.
"Emet, I-" he was close, choking with pleasure, his arousal dripping between his legs. He keened softly when the Ascian took him in his hand, grunting and stroking him with surprising deftness, though his thrusts grew less controlled.
"You - are maddening ." He thought he heard him say it, just as pleasure whited out his senses, sensitive ears ringing with the sound of his own breathing. He felt the wet heat of his lover's release dripping down his leg, half aware that he had been pulled back against Emet's chest, his weight against him.
They breathed, heavy. Emet against his cheek, he with his eyes squeezed shut, capturing the moment of bliss in his memory.
"Was that… a confession, Emet-Selch?"
There was a grunt in reply, the other still breathing raggedly. He had given more of himself than usual. "It was simply the heat of the moment, nothing more."
He pulled away from him - out of him - but the Exarch found his strength enough to turn and grip his arm, keeping them close together.
The Ascian looked more dishevelled than he had ever seen him, amber eyes locking with his. "Well, I would like to madden you further within the comforts of my chambers… if my company is still amusing to you." The Exarch drew out, catching his breath. His cheeks were burning.
"You are delirious."
A laugh. "I just allowed you to take me over the back of a couch within the library, I believe my faculties are already in question when it pertains to you." His laugh settled into a smile, which took a moment to register. He did not laugh or smile often. "I enjoy your company, you realise, don't you?"
Emet-Selch stared at him, his usually disinterested expression betraying something else. It softened his tired eyes. Fondness. "Hmph, well, you are bold today…" he shrugged noncommittally, "And nothing seems preferable to your suggestion."
"Then let us go, before I am forced to use my robes as a mop." He said, though he made no effort to move. His staff and books were still discarded on the floor. "Would you spare a hand?"
"Hmph, I believe I have spared much more than that tonight." A shrug. "Let us be away, then."
And they were gone with a snap - the patrons of the Cabinet wondering the next day what had caused the books to fall sideways, and why the couch seemed frayed in places it hadn't before.
The Exarch, curiously, did little to dispel the rumours of ghosts.