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His knees are threatening to buckle as Swiss’ lips trace wet lines along his neck. Ifrit draws a stuttering breath and lays his palms flat on the plane of his solid chest, slides them up to his shoulders to brace himself; Ifrit runs warm but Swiss’ skin is so hot through the thin material of his top. He is cupping Ifrit’s jaw in his hands, gently pushing his head aside and back as he mouths at his throat.
They haven’t even made it to his room yet.
“Hells, you’re a fucking dream, you know that?” Swiss rasps, grabbing Ifrit’s waist and tugging him closer, hips slotting together. “Wanted you from the moment I saw you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Ifrit admits with choked gasp. “Wanted you, too. Can’t believe I had to wait that long for you to offer.”
Swiss huffs through his nose; Ifrit feels him smile against his skin. “How polite. Could have had me right then and there by the bonfire, no one would have cared.”
“You would have been willing to let others watch me take you?”
“No, you’re right.” Swiss raises his head to meet Ifrit’s eyes, grip on his waist tightening possessively, sure to leave a mark. “They don’t deserve that. Least of all Dewdrop, that smug fucker.”
Ifrit laughs, leaning into Swiss’ kisses on his cheekbone. Swiss wants to hear him laugh again and again. “We wouldn’t be here right now if not for him.”
“I’ll leave some flowers and a thank you note at his door. Come on.”
Ifrit allows himself to be just a little amused by the fact that they had, apparently, given Swiss his old room. It doesn't look too different either—dim lighting, nonsensical art and posters on the walls, a bookshelf, some guitar equipment scattered around here and there. It’s sparse but cozy, still. There's a little flowerpot on the windowsill and that’s, ultimately, what sets the decor apart; Ifrit couldn't keep a plant alive no matter how much he and Ivy tried. It makes his heart do something in his chest, but he doesn't get the chance to dwell on it before Swiss begins to pull his jacket off and maneuver him around the space.
“Like what I’ve done with the place?” He purrs, pushing Ifrit to sit at the foot of his bed and kneeling in front of him.
“Mm,” Ifrit hums, leaning back on his hands. “It smells like you here now.”
“It still smelled like you when I first got here,” Swiss smiles, smoothing his hands over Ifrit’s thighs and knees. “I was obsessed with your scent before I even knew you. I imagined what you were like…”
A shiver runs down Ifrit’s spine as Swiss’ hands move down his legs. “..And did I live up to your imagination?”
Swiss looks up at him, smile saccharine. “Exceeded it.”
He grabs his leg around the ankle and brings his boot to his mouth, breath ghosting over the creased leather, caked with dirt and Satan knows what else. Ifrit’s breath hitches. Swiss smiles up at him from where he is down on his knees, debauched and sweet, like this is the most natural thing in the world, like there's nothing else left for him to be ashamed of. And as Swiss takes a lace between his teeth and pulls, Ifrit is hit with the realization that tonight he will be obeyed.
Ifrit bites his lip and brings his other boot up to gently press against Swiss’ groin. Swiss hums and shamelessly tilts his hips forward, grinding against the sole of Ifrit’s boot as he slowly takes the other one off.
“Desperate?” Ifrit mutters, lips spreading into a hungry smile.
Swiss chuckles. “Desperate to please.” He maintains scorching eye contact as he brings Ifrit’s other foot up from between his legs and removes the second boot.
“How selfless of you.”
“Hardly. I am full of ulterior motives,” Swiss sets his feet down and his palms return to the tops of Ifrit’s knees.
His hands run upwards to the insides of his thighs, spreading his legs slightly, thumbs digging into the crotch seams. Ifrit’s skin burns against his touch through the denim. There’s a tremor in Ifrit’s hands and his heart is racing, as Swiss unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans down. You’d think Ifrit had never done this before. Of course he had, it’d be bordering on an insult to assume otherwise. But Swiss is on his knees in front of him in a display of utter confidence that Ifrit doesn’t really know what to do with. His cheeks are dusted with pink, tail swishing from side to side with excitement, he’s looking up at Ifrit from under his eyelashes, sultry, blinking languidly, pupils blown. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks:
“You can use me if you want.” He then licks up Ifrit’s cock, all the way from base to tip.
“You sure?” Ifrit’s voice is shaky and rough with want. He cards a hand through Swiss’ hair.
“Mhm,” Swiss nods, leaning into his touch with a purr, jerking him slowly, “I won’t break, you know that.”
Ifrit chuckles, trying to steady his rapidly beating for no reason heart. “You sure won’t. Open wide, then.”
If he wants to be used, then Ifrit will use him thoroughly. Without another word of warning, he thrusts into his mouth and bumps the back of his throat immediately. Swiss’ eyes flutter closed, as he moans around the thickness of Ifrit’s cock, gag reflex, evidently, absent. It sends Ifrit’s mind reeling, as his hands tangle in his hair and he pushes in even deeper.
“You’re taking it so well, baby,” he whispers, to which Swiss hums, shuddering slightly, saliva spilling from his mouth down the front of his shirt. Oh, it’s absolutely filthy and Ifrit wants more of this, whatever this is. “You want it again?”
Swiss squeezes the muscles of Ifrit’s thighs in affirmation. Ifrit doesn’t waste any time, then. He pulls out and Swiss can only take a brief gasp, before Ifrit almost impales him back on his cock again. Swiss groans, more from the surprise of it, than the discomfort, his nose pressing against Ifrit’s navel, spit dripping on his knees from the corners of his mouth, slate gray eyes glowing with languid desire, as Ifrit drives his cock down into his throat again and again.
“Fuck, you’re insane, baby,” Ifrit rasps, reverent, craning his head backwards as he continues to roll his hips, letting up the intensity a little.
Swiss moans softly, swallowing around him, able to now move his mouth as he pleases. He laves his tongue over the underside of his cock, coming to put slight pressure on the underside of the head. Ifrit’s legs jolt beneath his hands. Swiss presses his hips firmly against the bed and begins to bob his head in earnest, wet sounds almost deafening.
“You’re so good,” Ifrit gasps. “How are you so good? Hah—”
Swiss looks so gorgeous on his knees for him. He looks up at Ifrit occasionally, gaze absolutely devilish, a promise for more. There’s no indication of exertion in his face whatsoever, just complete and utter bliss. It’s like he was made to do this… Ifrit feels himself approaching the edge faster than he’d like.
“Stop, stop,” he pulls Swiss by the hair and eases him off his cock. “Fuck, I was too close.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” Swiss rasps, catching his breath and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.
“Was that too much?” Ifrit smiles apologetically, gently scratching at Swiss’ poor scalp.
Swiss scoffs indignantly. “Who do you take me for?”
Ifrit, smitten by the self-assuredness, dips down, cradling Swiss’ jaw and Swiss raises on his knees a little, meeting him in the middle in a kiss. It’s a little messy and wet, but Ifrit wouldn’t have it any other way.
Clearly getting impatient, Swiss licks into Ifrit’s mouth, hands clamoring up to grasp his thighs, hoisting himself up into his lap. Ifrit holds him by the waist, leans back and lets Swiss take the lead on this. Swiss nips, kisses, licks and bites at the side of his neck, admittedly leaving Ifrit a little breathless. He almost tears Ifrit’s top off and then his own. It's so hot.
“How do you want me, baby?” Swiss whispers, breath scorching on Ifrit’s skin.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ifrit sighs. “Whatever way you like.”
“I want you inside of me.” With zero hesitation.
Ifrit is almost embarrassed at the way his breath hitches at Swiss’ words alone.
“You’re reducing me to fucking nothing,” he mutters, stamping kisses against Swiss’ neck and collarbone. “How are you doing this?”
Swiss’ laugh is warm and breathless, as he tangles his fingers in Ifrit’s hair, leaning into him. “You’re easily affected, darling.”
“How am I supposed to take that?”
“As encouragement. Lay back?”
Ifrit chuckles, scooting backwards on the bed, while Swiss undresses himself completely. He knows he’s being ogled at, shamelessly, and thus, shamelessly, takes his time, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. His body, all soft muscle, a smattering of dark hair on his arms, chest and navel. His cock… is something you’d need to see to believe, really. So perfect, almost sculpted, thick veins running up his shaft, adorned with a line of piercings. Ifrit feels his mouth water and cock leak. This ghoul…
“Can I ask you to do something for me?” Swiss whispers, as he climbs back on top of Ifrit, bracketing him and leaning down to graze his teeth along his ear.
“Anything,” Ifrit breathes, arching his back, hands clamoring up to hold Swiss’ forearms.
A low guttural growl deep from within Swiss’ chest reverberates against Ifrit’s ear. “Would you be so kind as to completely fucking ruin me?”
Oh, and something snaps within Ifrit. He seemed to have needed an incentive, permission almost, and now that he’s got it… He grasps him tightly and overpowers him, flipping him over, pressing him to the mattress. Swiss huffs in surprise before he realizes what had happened, then moans, long and wanton.
He whines, as Ifrit pins one of his arms behind his back. “Fuck, yes…”
“You whore,” Ifrit growls, maneuvering Swiss’ hips upwards, kneeling behind him. “Insatiable…”
Swiss purrs, wiggling his ass backwards, attempting to find contact with Ifrit’s hips. He gets slapped instead—a loud resounding crack against one of his cheeks, air knocked out of his lungs. He turns his head to the side to be able to look at Ifrit, jaw slack.
“Behave,” Ifrit rasps, smoothing his palms over a reddening mark on Swiss’ skin. He lets some spit fall from his mouth and drip against Swiss’ hole. “Barely even have to prep you… So fucking wet and ready.”
Swiss is wracked with full body shudder as he feels Ifrit’s finger inside of him. His eyes flutter shut, rolling back against his skull, a sweet desperate noise escaping his throat.
“Mm?” Ifrit purrs, condescending, working two fingers now. “Want something, sweets?”
“Didn’t think you’d be so fucking cruel,” Swiss whimpers. “Hurry up— Ah!”
Ifrit lands another smack against his ass, launching him forward slightly. He pulls him back by his hips. “You love it. Ask me nicely.”
“Iffie, please!” Swiss doesn’t seem to need to be convinced. The desperation sends blood rushing down to Ifrit’s groin.
He chokes on a breath, speeding up, scissoring his fingers, opening him up. And it’s as though Swiss’ body wants him, the way his hole stretches for him so easily.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” Ifrit mutters, pulling his fingers out finally, spreading the wetness on his cock. “Make you forget your own damn name.”
He sinks into Swiss, smooth, in one go to the hilt. Swiss moans breathlessly, his hands tightening against the sheets, claws breaking the fabric. “Oh, fuck… Fuck, Ifrit…”
“Yeah, babe?” Ifrit is pumping in and out of him slowly, grabbing his waist, thumbs digging into the dimples on his lower back. He doesn’t think this tenderness will last very long, not with how Swiss’ back is arching and how his hips are canting back, meeting him halfway.
“I forgot how big you were,” Swiss laughs, breathy. “‘M so full…”
“You had me down your throat.”
“That was ages ago, because you took your sweet ti— Oh, bastard!” Swiss grunts, when Ifrit’s palm cracks against him again.
“Don’t get too cocky now,” Ifrit smirks, picking up pace. “Not when you’re face down and ass up like this.”
“You love the challenge.”
Ifrit growls, teeth bared, grabs his hips hard enough to bruise and begins to ram into him, the lewd slaps of skin against skin and Swiss’ surprised yelp ringing in his ears. “What challenge? You’re whining and drooling underneath me, you think this is a challenge? You’re mine tonight, Swiss. You wanted this, for me to ruin you.”
“I do, fuck, I do,” Swiss whimpers, “Please—”
“Then be a good for me and take what I give.”
Swiss nods fervently, gasping with every punch of Ifrit’s cock inside of him, muttering worship. “You feel so good… Ifrit, you— So deep… I want it, I’ve wanted you for so long, I need it…”
“I got you,” Ifrit leans down and mouths at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, kissing and then biting, hard, leaving marks, breaking skin, laving his tongue over the pinpricks of his teeth.
“Love that you hurt me,” Swiss mutters all of a sudden, and Ifrit’s hips stutter; he almost comes on the spot.
“You can’t say shit like that,” he hisses, but nevertheless tangles his fingers in Swiss’ hair and pulls.
Swiss keens with a drawn out moan, arms reaching back to grab at Ifrit, anywhere, wherever he can reach. “Do that again, fuck, harder—”
Ifrit obliges, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging his head back. He watches as Swiss’ eyes go glassy, him choking out another moan, wet and raspy.
“Please, keep going, please… Just like that, don’t stop— I’m close, darling, please…” he begs.
“You’ll come just like this for me, yeah?” Ifrit pants. “Just from my cock, hm?”
Swiss, fucked out beyond words at this point, can only groan desperately and nod.
Ifrit leans over again, a hand in Swiss’ hair, another bruising his hip, cock relentless. “Come for me, then, doll.”
He pulls, and grips, and plunges deep inside and Swiss can’t seem to take it anymore. With a deep obscene groan, he comes, spilling over the sheets completely untouched. Ifrit follows shortly after, overwhelmed by the way Swiss shudders and pulses around him, the way his back arches, the way his eyes roll back, the way his voice cracks around the edges.
“Fucking hell,” Swiss chokes out, dropping on his front when Ifrit unwinds his fingers from his hair and pulls out.
“Fucking hell’s right,” Ifrit huffs, flopping on top of his unceremoniously. “You threw me in for loop after loop, you know that?”
Swiss purrs, sated smile on his lips. “I have many more loops.”
“Should I be making appointments?” Ifrit chuckles, breath warm against Swiss’ neck.
“For you, darling, my schedule is clear.”