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Zu’zu studies his prey from across the divide. It makes continuous loops, back and forth between the same six fulms of space, never looking further than its own nose. He remains unseen in the shadows, his query too invested in its own thoughts to take notice.
He’s stalked it for at least an hour now, devising a perfect plan of attack. The gentle hum of the environment masks his steps as he moves closer and closer, careful to stay out of the line of sight. Every step is planned, dodging spaces that would alert it to his movements prematurely while lingering in others that keep his prey unaware. Zu’zu slinks through the shadows like he belongs there, his very breath masked in the dark. This close, he can practically taste victory. Finally, at the last second, when he’s right on top of it, he brings his hands up, reaching out and around, stretching out when—
“Don’t even think about it.”
Zu’zu pauses mid gesture, hands on either side of G’raha Tia’s waist, fingers pointed in at the places he know makes G’raha screech. Immediately, Zu’zu deflates, ears back against his skull, lower lip pushed out in an absolutely not childish pout.
“Is that all I get?”
“Mm,” is the only response and Zu’zu realizes G’raha still hasn’t registered who he is, merely his intent. He reaches a hand out, pulling slightly on the ponytail at the back of G’raha’s head, earning a whine as his head is forced up and to the side and—
And G’raha’s eyes go wide, the book he was clutching to falling from his grasp.
“Zu’zu?!”
A hiss comes from across the library as both bard and archon recoil slightly and offer chastised looks out at the end of the stacks though the librarian can’t see them. G’raha makes to say something more, but Zu’zu pulls him in around the waist. This time, there’s no complaint as G’raha wraps his arms around Zu’zu’s shoulders, faced burrowed into the crook of his neck there as they hold to one another.
“What are you doing here?” G’raha finally asks once he deigns to pull his head out of Zu’zu’s chest. “I hadn’t sent word that the research for the Twelve was finished.”
Zu’zu shrugs and adjusts his hold, rubbing both hands up and down G’raha’s sides, not quite able to stand still (he never has been), but not willing to break the contact with G’raha.
“Shtola was in Radz-at-Han doing her research on Zero and the Thirteenth, but needed to return to gain access to some tomes in particular. I figured that someone needed to accompany her—“
“Y’shtola is more than capable of taking care of herself.”
“I’m not worried about her, I’m worried about anyone who crosses her. The Scions are disbanded, she doesn’t have the diplomatic immunity she used to, Student or not.”
G’raha quietly snorts, but doesn’t argue.
“So you’re all the way out here for what? A long boat ride and even worse food?”
“Would you believe that my priority was seeing a man I so deeply adore that I haven’t seen in moons?”
Even in the low-light of the library, Zu’zu can see the faint dusting of color across the apples of G’raha’s cheeks as he tries to look away.
“…it hasn’t been that long.”
“It’s been long enough when I’m used to having you in my shadow,” he argues, bringing a finger up under G’raha’s chin to force him to look up.
“I missed you, Raha.”
The blush deepens, but rather than hiding it this time, G’raha grabs the lapels of Zu’zu’s red leather jacket and pulls Zu’zu closer to him, stretching up the few ilms difference to kiss him.
Zu’zu, of course, responds in kind, clutching G’raha to him as he returns the kiss, all fervor and longing.
He’s spent this time in the aftermath of Meteion and the Ascians flitting from tavern to tavern, visiting old friends and making new ones. With the right cloak and styling of hair, he’s not Zu’zu the Scion, Eikon Slayer, the Warrior of Light, the Liberator of Ala Mhigo, the Warrior of Darkness, the— whatever other names they’ve made for him. Now and again, he gets to be just Zu’zu—adventurer for hire and bard for the night.
A decade ago, he’d blossomed under the light of recognition. In the aftermath of Ifrit and Titan and Geruda, he’d accepted the lauds, even in the face of the massacre of the people he’d called friends at the Waking Sands. When the Empire was (temporarily) laid low, when the Black Wolf was sent into the darkness licking his wounds, Zu’zu directed the songs about himself.
He wonders if that version of himself would believe what he’s become. No one else can do it, so I have to had been a mantra even then, but Zu’zu hadn’t known the things that would be asked of him and the losses that would come with it. Doing what he had to was easy, fun, and that’s not to say that Zu’zu doesn’t love the taste of adventure still, that he doesn’t find joy in the things that he does and the people he’s with, but victory looks different now: sometimes it’s just living to fight another day and not everyone is victorious.
Days don’t go by where he doesn’t think of the yawning void left behind by those who’d touched and molded his life for the better. He sings about them now, immortalizes them in songs that will be stuck in the heads of people who have never met them. Sometimes that’s the best he can do for their memories.
He wonders if G’raha can taste the sour pathway of his mind, can feel Zu’zu drifting because he kisses him harder, tongue pushing past his own lips and into Zu’zu’s mouth. Zu’zu, of course, is helpless to do anything but let him (when does he deny G’raha much of anything). Is he telling him that he’s here, that they’re still here and together? That they’ve lost countless others, but for now they’re still—
“You’re drifting,” G’raha whispers against Zu’zu’s lips, barely more than a suggestion of air in the hair’s breadth of space he allows between their lips. “You’d better not come all this way to see me just to spend the time in your head.”
“Where would you rather I spend it?” Zu’zu asks, not even bothering to fight a smile, basking in the warmth of G’raha’s body against his own.
He feels the smile flit across the archon’s face, that devilish little thing that Lyna and the rest of the Crystraium would be scandaslied to see their Crystal Exarch wear, but one that Zu’zu takes endless delight in. It’s sharp at the corners and colors his eyes a little darker, gazing up at Zu’zu through the shadows of his eyelashes. The look is coquettish in a way that Zu’zu has only grown to appreciate the more and more confident with it that G’raha becomes.
“I’ve a place in mind…” And as he smooths his hands out across Zu’zu’s chest as he pulls back to properly look up at Zu’zu and Zu’zu knows exactly what place he means. Yes, they could go the Baldesion Annex, find a nice corner in one of the many rooms he’s been offered before, and Zu’zu can spend the time refamiliarizing himself with his… G’raha (“boyfriend” feels too childish when G’raha’s all but given him a ring in proposal. Twice. But he won’t dare call him anything more serious until G’raha does). He thinks of the room with its closed windows and uncomfortable bed, books strewn about with notes from every mind under the sun scribbled down on every spare bit of parchment and wall.
It’s fine, it is, Zu’zu’s used it dozens of times before and likely will use it dozens of times again, but…
His hands go wandering, down G’raha’s back, one to his waist, the other to his hip as he keeps G’raha close. G’raha’s ears twitch happily and now Zu’zu grins, all teeth and intent as he leans a little closer towards G’raha’s ears.
“Maybe I can’t wait that long.”
He feels G’raha stiffen against him and when Zu’zu walks a few paces forward and pins him into the shelves, G’raha’s ears go back and his eyes get wide.
“You can’t seriously mean—“
“Shhh,” Zu’zu coos, kissing at the side of G’raha’s face, that wicked smile not abating for a moment. “It’s a library, you’ve got to be quiet here.”
“Zu’zu Duhawl, you do not mean to tell me that you want to—“ G’raha’s complaint dies in his throat around a wet gulp as Zu’zu lifts his own leg, thigh pressing between G’raha’s legs. Zu’zu feels G’raha grip tighter to him, head craned to the side as he looks out at the end of the stacks.
“We’re all the way in the back of the library,” Zu’zu coos. “No one comes back here, right?”
“That’s no—“
“Right?” Zu’zu presses.
G’raha pauses for a moment, fingers flexing on Zu’zu’s arms as he fights to maintain composure while Zu’zu rocks back and forth, moving his thigh with him. Zu’zu can feel the tension in G’raha’s body, the way his hips unconsciously move the barest amount, muscle memory, he wonders.
“R… Right… But if someone were to see—”
“We’ll make sure no one sees,” Zu’zu promises, lifting the hand from his back to box his arm at the side of G’raha’s head, cutting off his line of sight back into the library.
“You’ll be as quiet as a church mouse, hm?”
G’raha finally looks up at him, his complaints outweighed by the fact his crimson eyes are almost entirely swallowed whole by black pupils. Zu’zu sees want in the parted lips with harsh breath between them, the way his ears twitch even as they lay flat against his skull, and how he feels G’raha’s tail thrash against the side of his leg with every twist and shift of his hips. He’s played this game enough times with G’raha to know when he has a winning hand.
“Something quick… right?” G’raha manages out, like he’s trying to convince himself.
“Very quick,” Zu’zu promises, smile bright and showing off the points of his canines. “An aperitif before we go back to the Annex.”
G’raha shoots another anxious look at Zu’zu’s arm like he’s staring through the other side. Even as he does that, he’s starting to move more and Zu’zu can feel G’raha adjusting against his thigh, his interest growing in more ways than one. Zu’zu looks down, appreciates how the fitted pants do wonders to show off so much of G’raha while maintaining an air of professionalism. Sure, he prefers the attire he wears on the regular, but the student look on G’raha does some things for him too. It makes him think of a different time and place where Zu’zu had actual, formal schooling and G’raha was the pretty nerd that he—
In an instant, his train of thought is rerouted. G’raha reaches up, pulls Zu’zu down by the lapels again to kiss him. It’s harder, more wanting than the first. His body begins to move against Zu’zu in earnest and he uses where their lips are joined to smother the sounds Zu’zu can feel blooming on his lips.
Zu’zu’s hand shuffles down, now both of them keeping a firm hold on G’raha’s hips as he helps him move and adjust, a slow, steady roll that only grows firmer as the time goes on.
G’raha tastes warm on Zu’zu’s lips, a memory of tea still clinging to his tongue that Zu’zu eagerly sucks clean. He’s not one for herbal good mornings, preferring the bitter embrace of coffee, but he’s grown an appreciation for the drink by taking it from G’raha’s lips. It’s a sweet note against an even sweeter backdrop of the taste of his favorite person.
It’s G’raha who pulls away first, head bowing against Zu’zu’s shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. Zu’zu, for his part, thinks that that won’t do. He starts to kiss warm, breathy little sighs along the side of G’raha’s throat, weathering marks into what strips of bare skin are available for view. G’raha’s usual chastisements are swallowed back and Zu’zu wonders if it’s the weeks of separation that make him a little bolder. Zu’zu certainly has no shame at the moment as one hand on G’raha’s hips disconnects to trail meticulous fingers over the material of those great pants to the front fastens of them. It’s a testament to his practice in this area that he unfastens and unzips his pants one-handedly with ease while he continues to help G’raha move with the other.
There’s the beginning of a complaint on G’raha’s tongue, or at least, Zu’zu thinks it is, but as he trails calloused fingers over the barest bit of exposed flesh, it’s rapidly swallowed back into submission.
Back and forth, he lets his fingers drag over skin and the sparse suggestion of hair, plucking at the waistband of his underwear like Zu’zu so often plucks at the strings of his bow. He feels the feathery sighs in his shoulder and almost hears it when his fingers finally breach inside. One of G’raha’s hands on his arm disconnects as G’raha buries his face in Zu’zu’s shoulder further, hand sandwiched between to keep G’raha’s voice compliant.
Zu’zu, of course, is far more concerned with his own prey. He turns his hands, palm against G’raha’s stomach as he skirts lower until his fingers brush the root of G’raha’s erection. It’s still half-hard beneath his fingers, but takes immediate interest as Zu’zu drags them down the shaft and back up again. When Zu’zu does go ahead and wrap his fingers around G’raha, so warm in his touch, he does hear that intake of breath he’s been looking for. Zu’zu shushes him softly and starts to stroke him in that same steady, easy motion he’d had G’raha grinding up on his thigh to.
This is everything he remembers, and then some. G’raha twitches and pulses in his hand, steadily harder and harder until he’s at full attention in the space between their bodies, still wrapped up in his pants mostly. There’s a touch of disappointment that G’raha’s underwear seems to be catching the majority of pre-cum that leaks from the head, so that just won’t do.
He breaks his other hand off of G’raha’s hip to help pull his pants further down over his hips and ass until they’re pooled at the top of his thighs. Zu’zu adjusts his stance so he’s angled with his back to the mouth of the stacks, G’raha completely hidden from sight. G’raha seems to relax a little more. He adjusts his body so he’s turned into Zu’zu, holding the lapel of his jacket for dear life as his other hand clutches over his mouth. Like this, however, he’s more willing to move, to jerk his hips slightly into the steady motion that Zu’zu has on his cock as Zu’zu smears more of the freely leaking pre-cum onto G’raha’s shaft.
Zu’zu wishes he could hear more. He’s missed the warmth of G’raha’s voice these long weeks, how it gets breathy when he gets overwhelmed, sharp and high when Zu’zu is giving him just this side of too much, and how it rolls and drags along moans that make Zu’zu’s blood boil with want. And it’s want that’s currently lapping at his insides, making his hand move faster, his body crowding closer.
His lips move soundlessly in a cantrip that coats his fingers in palm in familiar substance that he saves for occasions like this (not all tricks are just for primals and empires). G’raha’s response is immediate, clutching his face tighter as he thrusts his hips into Zu’zu’s hand. Zu’zu starts to move his fist faster before pausing, twisting his hand over the head until G’raha makes a choked off sob into his skin that only abates when Zu’zu starts to pump his shaft again.
“Easy,” Zu’zu purrs, low and lethal. “We can’t have the staff hearing you, could we?”
He sees the bob of G’raha’s throat as he swallows down whatever sound was to follow even as he leans into Zu’zu. They both know the things that Zu’zu’s voice does to him, a point of pride for the bard.
“Imagine what they would say,” Zu’zu goes on as he feels G’raha shiver against him. “‘G’raha Tia, prized student getting off in the library, so needy he couldn’t even wait for the privacy of a bed.’ Tsk, tsk. What have you become outside the harbor of Old Sharlayan, these walls of sanctity and knowledge? What have those dirty outsiders done to you? Depraved you, undone you—“
“Gods yes,” G’raha’s voice comes, muffled through his hand.
Zu’zu shushes him again, drawing his lips across the side of his face, making sure that G’raha can feel his smile.
“Have they twisted you? Taught you the pleasures of something more than books and tomes? Have they ruined you?”
G’raha’s hand fumbles against his mouth for a moment as he stares up at Zu’zu, panting heavily. He’s shaking like a leaf and Zu’zu can feel how G’raha’s body keeps tensing, the way he keeps leaking into Zu’zu’s fingers, making a mess of the already slippery slide of his hand. He wonders how busy he’s been, if this is the first time he’s really gotten off since their separation. The idea does more for Zu’zu than he cares to admit, he feels the implication growing between his own legs.
G’raha isn’t looking away, however, even with glassy eyes. Instead, he breaks the hand away from his mouth to grab Zu’zu around the back of the head, fist tight in Zu’zu’s ponytail.
“Y-You— You’ve ruined me,” G’raha almost slurs out in his desperate attempt to remain quiet.
“For everyone, everything. Please, Zu’zu—“ Zu’zu aches at the tremble of his voice saying his name, like that, like a prayer. “Destroy me.”
Zu’zu all but lunges forward to claim his mouth again, salvation found in the feeling of G’raha’s lips to his own, ice cold with the way he’s been raggedly pulling breath in and out of them. They’re mutually drunk on desperation, on need and Zu’zu knows G’raha well enough to know that that need will be filled quick enough. His hand fumbles between them and he knows there’ll be stains to clean off of his own clothes for how furiously he jerks him off between their bodies, but there’s not a part of him that can even feign care at the moment.
G’raha clings to him tighter, nails biting into the leather of his jacket. He feels G’raha’s sharp intake of breath that Zu’zu swallows, pressing closer still, smothering every note that could break free. He’s throbbing in his touch, his thighs and his gut tensing in the prelude to what comes next. The hot pleasure of it all has G’raha’s mouth breaking loose from Zu’zu’s with a whine. What he does next is instinct, Zu’zu clapping a hand over G’raha’s mouth as he forces him back into the bookshelf, pinning him down as he jerks him off.
G’raha stares at him with wide eyes, both hands clinging to Zu’zu’s forearm now as he squirms beneath his hold. Zu’zu presses him further into the bookshelf, forcing every note to silence. G’raha only seems to tense up further than that, clinging tight as he shakes and shakes and shakes and—
G’raha’s entire body seizes up for a moment before trembling like a leaf in a storm. Zu’zu glances down to see cum drooling over his clenched fist, Zu’zu not stopping a moment as he pumps him until G’raha falls still and his orgasm peters out. Only then does he pulls his hand away, thoroughly coated in G’raha’s cum.
Waste not, want not, or something of that ilk, Zu’zu thinks as he starts to lick his hand clean. When G’raha’s eyes open up and he sees Zu’zu finishing up, he pushes at his chest weakly.
“Incorrigible,” G’raha complains, but the smile on his face tells another story. All Zu’zu does is grin at him, ears twitching happily before helping G’raha back into his pants and zipping him up once more.
“Better?”
G’raha only hums in delight, that slightly dizzy look Zu’zu knows to associate with a good orgasm painted across his face. Zu’zu reaches up and holds the side of his face before smiling almost punchdrunk himself when G’raha leans into it all too eagerly.
They spend a few minutes like that, G’raha kneading his fingers against Zu’zu’s chest as Zu’zu pets the side of his face and ears, peppering sweet little kisses on his skin. But then G’raha is pulling Zu’zu in by the front of his shirt, straining up to kiss him properly. Zu’zu immediately melts into it, kissing him as warm and lazy as a summer day, about ready to offer heading back to the Annex when G’raha pulls away. G’raha is staring at Zu’zu with a look of determination that always makes his stomach flip. It’s the kind of thing he levels him with before he does something entirely stupid or entirely brave (usually both).
This time, however, he pushes Zu’zu back a pace and then drops to the floor. Zu’zu’s brain fractures for a moment trying to figure out stupidly what G’raha thinks he’s doing, but there’s not a second until there are hands on Zu’zu’s pants, belt undone and flies open. Whereas Zu’zu had been content to tease and play with G’raha before, G’raha has no such compulsions. Zu’zu tries not to laugh as G’raha jerks him around, pants and underwear halfway down his thighs as his cock bobs to attention. He can’t help the soft smile on his lips as G’raha fixes him with that same determined look, but the affection is quickly drowned out by want at the feeling of a hand on him.
G’raha’s hands are no less clever than his own, years of picking through books, wielding staves, and brandishing swords have made him useful in all kinds of ways, leaving behind testaments of his actions that feel incredible on Zu’zu’s aching cock. He’s given a few pumps to get used to it, or at least that’s the idea. Zu’zu’s arm goes up against the bookshelves in front of him, head resting on his forearm as his eyes flutter shut. He’s ready to sink into the sensation and let G’raha jerk him off when there’s something warm and wet that engulfs the head of his cock.
Zu’zu’s eyes open again to see G’raha’s lips stretched around him as red eyes bore into grey. It’s Zu’zu’s turn to scramble to cover his mouth, pinching lips and nose together, lest the entire library hear just what he thinks of G’raha and his ministrations.
G’raha, on the other hand, it seems gives no inkling of care for Zu’zu and his plights. His tongue laps over the head, a gentle rhythm that makes Zu’zu’s belly clench. And just as he threatens to get used to it, G’raha starts to slide further down the length. He takes every inch of it like it’s his right, and Zu’zu supposes it is, sliding up and down his shaft to show what their few years together hath wrought. There’s no more choking and pausing every few thrusts, G’raha’s mouth slides warm and wet as any willing hole, tongue pushing, pressing, stroking over the underside and the head when he comes to it, drinking down every leaking drop of pre-cum that Zu’zu provides for him.
Most nights, he takes pleasure in the sounds that G’raha makes when he goes down on him, but this careful orchestration he’s enacting is virtually soundless and that’s, somehow, even hotter still. There’s time for the percussion of skin on skin when Zu’zu has G’raha bent across the bed (or sofa. Or floor. Or desk, neither of them are picky), but for now, this melody of quietude is everything Zu’zu could want and more.
He didn’t expect to get this, content with a few handjobs in the stacks and then skulking off like a pair of rowdy teenagers, but G’raha has to go and blow his expectations apart like he always does.
There’s no humming or moaning from G’raha, both of them cognizant of what creating extra noise could do, but that doesn’t make it feel any less good. G’raha’s hands flex on his thighs, keeping him position no matter how much Zu’zu wants to move though G’raha seems to understand that as he starts to bob faster. Zu’zu watches enraptured as the head of his cock makes a bulge in G’raha’s throat and nearly cries out when G’raha swallows around it. He buries sharp teeth into the heel of his hand to stifle himself and nearly curses when he feels G’raha laugh around it. He has half a mind to pinch his ear or pull on his hair in retaliation, but that would both require Zu’zu to move his hands which are acting as anchor for what’s left of his sanity or stop G’raha from doing what he’s doing, and Zu’zu might die if he does. Instead, he’s helpless to just stare down at him as G’raha takes him apart with the same meticulous precision Zu’zu had employed on G’raha not moments before.
There’s no finesse here, no drawing it out as they reacquaint with each other. This is dirty and fast and hard on borrowed time. G’raha is nothing if not efficient, so Zu’zu knows it’s planned when he starts to feel that build in his gut as his head starts to spin. He starts to sink into that feeling, pleasure burning hot, making his whole body seize as he struggles to contain himself. That only abates for a moment, just a moment when he feels something adjust and looks down at G’raha.
Zu’zu wishes he could paint or draw half as good as Alphinaud. The sight of G’raha on his knees, mouth open, tongue pressed against his lips with Zu’zu’s cock hovering just between them as he jerks him off to a finish should be immortalized. The truth of the matter is he can’t, so it won’t, and that means that this sight is for him and him alone.
It’s that warm thought, the consistent friction, and the fact that G’raha smirks up at him and winks that pushes him over the edge. He watches as best as he can as spurts of white cum coat G’raha’s open mouth and tongue, fighting against the urge to close his eyes and let the pleasure wash over him. However nothing could possibly look better, feel better than seeing G’raha gleefully taking everything Zu’zu can give to him as he pants against his cock. And as the feeling starts to ebb, as the blood stops pounding in Zu’zu’s ears, he takes his final pleasure in feeling G’raha wrap his lips around the head to suck him dry before pulling back and swallowing it all.
Zu’zu can’t keep back the groan this time, but he’s quick to disguise it into a cough for any wandering ears. No time is wasted as G’raha tucks him back into his underwear and drags his pants up the length of his legs, putting Zu’zu back together while the man himself fights the urge to collapse.
“I missed you too,” G’raha remarks before swiping his middle finger across his upper lip, wiping off a non-existent smear of pre-cum before sucking the finger into his mouth with that same cocky look.
“You’re horrible,” Zu’zu manages with a low groan, pressing their foreheads together.
“Don’t give me that, you know that you did this to me,” G’raha accuses. “Like you said, I used to be a saint, a paragon of virtue before you met me.”
“Damn you and your lies to the hells,” Zu’zu chuckles. “You were sitting on years worth of fantasies that you were dying to enact the moment you got me alone. How often did the Crystal Exarch sit in his tower concocting things he might do to his famed hero?”
G’raha clears his throat and pointedly looks away.
“That’s fantasy, that doesn’t count.”
“Mhm, alright, sure. Except we’ve made nearly every one of those a reality at this point, haven’t we?”
G’raha purses his lips slightly in thought, pulling away from Zu’zu to look down at the floor like he’s recalling something.
“We haven’t done it in a classroom…”
Zu’zu laughs at that as he reaches up, stroking G’raha’s ear affectionately.
“Well, I’m here for two weeks, so we can always—“
“Two weeks?!”
Another hiss cuts across the library and both Zu’zu and G’raha jump at that before issuing out apologies.
“Two weeks?” G’raha tries again, quieter, but no less delighted, if the twitching of his ears says anything.
“It wouldn’t be a bother to you, would it? I figured that’d give us time together, but also, if you need a capable, strong adventurer—“
“You know one you could recommend?”
G’raha bursts into quiet laughter as Zu’zu sticks out his tongue at him.
“Well, if it were up to me, I’d always have need of a capable, strong adventurer.” Zu’zu’s heart does this funny little flip as G’raha takes his hand and kisses his knuckles.
“If I stayed around, you’d get nothing done.”
“That’s not fair, we faced the end of days together and managed to complete that arm-in-arm.”
Zu’zu only snorts, he doesn’t mention that G’raha and the rest of their friends had been taken in the end, that Meteion had separated them yet again. He doesn’t voice the fear that he has that it’ll happen again, that this time might be the last…
But maybe G’raha knows better for the way that he adjusts, holding Zu’zu’s waist as he looks up at him before adjusting and taking his hand in one of his and putting back the tome he’d been reviewing with the other.
“As it is, I do have need to a strong adventurer at the moment.”
Zu’zu cocks an eyebrow.
“Mm? And what do you need him for?”
G’raha’s smile turns sharp at the corners, that bright, playful look in his eyes as he pulls Zu’zu close to whisper quietly.
“He owes me a round two.”