Chapter Text
Arguably, attraction is the natural progression of his fixation. By all accounts, it’s impressive that it’s taken him so long to reach this point. Now that he has, it’s impossible to ignore. Everything Laios does is simultaneously intoxicating and aggravating.
He tries to imagine what kind of lover Laios is. If he’s gentle, or rough, or somewhere in between. What kind of things he might be into- he assumes Laios to be inexperienced, maybe he wouldn’t even know himself.
He seems like the type to get worked up easily. He’s probably noisy- that or dead silent.
In his ideal world, Laios needs his guidance here too. Needs Kabru to help him find what feels good, to make it even better. It’s probably unrealistic to think him a virgin, he is 26 after all- older than Kabru himself. Not improbable, though, given what Laios is like.
Whatever the case may be, he wants Laios inside of him. It’d be a stretch, he thinks. Kabru hasn’t been fucked in long time now and given the way the rest of Laios is built it’s hard to think he isn’t hung. He pictures Laios’ hands on him; big and calloused from use. He’s not very good at being careful with his touch, he tends not to know his own strength, but that’s ok. He’d be well behaved and listen when Kabru tells him what to do. Or maybe he’d get so wound up he couldn’t control himself- rutting into Kabru like some kind of wild animal.
Sometimes he thinks about fucking Laios instead. What it might be like to break him down that way.
These images come to him at the most inopportune times. They sneak into his head whenever there’s nothing else to stuff it. Fueled by the day's interactions.
But that’s all they are, isn’t it? Images. Half-imagined and wholly unsatisfactory. It’s almost worse that he knows what Laios’ skin feels like under his hands, has seen what he looks like mostly naked, has heard his laboured breath. There is truth to these things and it makes them harder to ignore. The images are clearer for them, but they still aren’t real. Fragile and sweet like spun sugar. He fears they’ll start to rot his teeth if he can’t get them under control.
He’s at his desk when the knock on his door comes. It’s late, arguably too late for visitors. The knock is soft enough that it wouldn’t have woken him were he sleeping, so it isn’t important. He thinks about ignoring it at first, it can wait until morning, surely. But his curiosity gets the better of him and he’s lost the will to focus on his work. He’s been daydreaming for the better half of an hour by now.
“Come in,” He answers, twisting himself around to watch the door. Whoever it is hesitates for a moment, the handle turns before the door pushes open.
Laios slips inside, shutting the door carefully behind him. He looks nervous; pink colouring the tips of his ears and the high plains of his cheeks. He shifts where he stands.
“What is it?” Kabru smiles his most disarming smile, hoping it might settle him.
“You said you’d help me with anything right?”
“Mmhm,” That, of course, piques his interest.
“Could you- uhm,” Laios can’t meet his eyes, “I can’t get it to feel good on my own, I don’t know, it feels weird.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Could you help me get off?” The words tumble out his mouth in quick succession, “It’s just-“
What an errant misuse of power. How odd of a question to be asked. He might be offended if it weren’t the answer to every one of his prayers. He can almost see the white glow of a halo appear behind Laios’ head.
“Ok,” Kabru cuts him off, he doesn’t really care why, “Now?”
“Oh,” Laios looks like he wasn’t expecting to get this far. The confusion on his face is proof that he hasn’t thought this through. It’s quite cute actually.
It makes sense. Not the asking, but the needing. There’s been something off about Laios all week; some mounting frustration Kabru hasn’t been able to name. In retrospect, it was obvious. There are some itches you can’t scratch by yourself.
He agrees without hesitation because it feels like some kind of victory. Laios chose him for this, Laios needs him. It fills him with a strange sense of pride.
That, and the thought of the other man naked has been plaguing him for days on end.
“How do you usually deal with it?”
“I don’t, it’s not normally a problem,” Laios admits. He stands beside Kabru awkwardly. His arms hang at his side, tapping each finger to his thumb in a mindless pattern, he shuffles on his feet. It’s a habit Kabru has noticed before; sensory seeking when he’s bored or a distraction when he’s nervous. It’s something to do when he doesn’t know what to do with himself, Kabru guesses.
“Then why?”
“It’s you, I think- so close all of the time, it makes me feel…” Laios searches for a word, “Different.”
He laughs at that, as if proximity hasn’t gotten him just as worked up. It’s just funny to imagine that he could actually affect Laios like this. There was a point he’d started to question if Laios was even attracted to humans. With so much of his attention fixated on monsters it’s a little hard to believe there’s not something deeper there. Granted, he probably would like Kabru more if he had claws, or scales, or better yet, three heads.
“So you want me even closer?” He stands, stepping into the other man’s space. Laios nods his head slowly, “That’s fine, I’ll take good care of you.”
He takes Laios’ hand in his- it’s so warm- and drags him over to the bed.
“How do you want me?” He tries his best to keep his tone light and inviting- the implication being; no big deal. Laios just stares at him.
“Oh, uhm, I don’t know?”
“You came all the way here and you don’t know?”
“I just wanted it to be you,” Laios explains, “I don’t really care how.”
The desire to give Laios what he wants fills his body like pins and needles and it’s so strangely intense that it starts to make him feel dizzy.
“Then why don’t you get comfortable?” He motions for Laios to sit on the bed and follows when he does.
He slides himself into Laios’ lap. It’s surprisingly comfortable; his thighs are wide and thick with muscle.
“You have to tell me if I do something you don’t like, ok?” It should be a given, but he never knows with Laios, “I won’t be upset or disappointed, I just want you to feel good.”
“Ok,” Laios promises. His hands lay flat beside him on the bed sheet, like he isn’t sure he’s allowed to touch.
Kabru starts somewhere simple. He presses his lips against Laios’ softly. When Laios starts to reciprocate, he deepens the kiss, threading his fingers into Laios’ hair. It’s clumsy, and wet, and altogether a little much, but it’s sweet. He kind of likes that Laios is bad at this, in a weird way it’s more attractive than if he were good. It’s the desperation, he thinks, that makes it that way. Laios’ kisses like he’s hungry- like he’s starved- and there’s something in Kabru that can fix it. He can feel Laios’ teeth; the sharp points of them grazing his tongue, catching on his lips. The more Kabru plays with his hair the more intense he seems to get. And then he pulls away.
He takes the opportunity to tug Laios’ shirt off of him. Revelling in the feel of Laios’ bare skin under his hands.
“You’re sure this is ok?” It’s a little too late for Laios to be asking that again now. At least this time it doesn’t seem quite so doubtful of Kabru’s willingness, rather something else, “Are you and the elf not… Y’know…”
“Mithrun?” Kabru balks at the idea of it. It’s not that he doesn’t like the captain, he has a lot of respect for the man, but he’s never once considered him like that, “I don’t think he’s ready for something like that yet.”
He kneads his fingers into the meat of Laios’ chest. It’s funny, he’s bigger than some of the girls Kabru has been with.
“But if he- ah- would you?” Laios squirms under his touch.
“No, why would I?” It’s mildly irritating that Laios can’t see how entirely devoted to him Kabru is, “I don’t care about anyone but you.”
Laios is a sight beneath him; the sharp parts of him seem softened by need. Kabru can see it on his face that he’s still not convinced. Not about Mithrun, necessarily, but that Kabru could want him that badly. He doesn’t see himself as something worth desiring. What a shame.
“Are you jealous of him?” Kabru teases. It’s laughable, really, to be jealous of Mithrun of all people. Though he may be fond of the man, he’d rather die than be in his place.
“No…” How very unconvincing.
“You’re all I think about, it’s quite awful, honestly,” He presses kisses along Laios’ jaw, “I wish I could think about anything else, but it’s all you.”
“That can’t be true.”
“No, it is,” Kabru insists, “How could I ever think of anything else when you’re so- … so you.”
He punctuates that with a real kiss. He needs Laios to know how special he is- how important.
“Besides, it’d be like if I was jealous of Namari or something.”
Laios turns his face away, a vague look of embarrassment descending over him. He must’ve thought about it at some point.
“Should I be jealous of Namari?” All of a sudden, he very much is.
“No- no!” Laios’ eyes grow comically wide, “She’s just the only person I know who can pick me up or beat me in an arm wrestle, she’s so strong… it’s kind of nice.”
He has noticed, actually, Laios’ propensity to fold in on himself at times. Like he’s uncomfortable with the space he’s taking up. Does he want to be smaller? Weaker? He doesn’t do it when he’s in armour. Does he feel exposed? Is he trying to hide all the soft parts of him? Is he self conscious? What about?
Each question asks another; bouncing around the confines of Kabru’s skull. Later, he tells himself, a conversation for later.
“So you want to be manhandled, is that it?” He can work with that. He may not be as strong as Namari, but he has his ways, “To be put in your place?”
“Only by you.”
“You trust me too much,” As much as it pleases him, and it does, it’s also a little concerning. It’s painfully naive of Laios to think Kabru would do him no harm, even if he’s right.
“Shouldn’t I?”
“No… no,” Kabru leaves a trail of kisses across Laios’ neck, “I want you to.”
“You always know what’s best for me,” Laios mumbles, “Better than I do.”
Laios’ trust in him does more for Kabru than he could even begin to vocalise. To have a man like Laios give him absolute faith is one hell of a power trip. Even if he weren’t the king, he’s still a good head taller than Kabru and god knows how much stronger. And yet, there he is, at Kabru’s mercy.
“You’re so excitable,” Laios fidgets underneath him, desperate but unsure where to start. His breath is as heavy and as clumsy as his hands on Kabru‘s waist, “Panting like a dog already.”
“It feels nice.”
“Good- I promised I’d look after you, didn’t I?” He cups Laios’ cheek with his hand, “Anything you want.”
“I want to be inside you.”
His eyes really are something else. So sincere. Gold like fading sunlight, well cooked pastry, or sickly sweet honey. Anything that is good and warm and beautiful. He wishes he could bottle the colour and paint it over everything.
“That’s ok,” He runs his hand through Laios’ hair, pushing it back out of his face. It’s a little longer than usual, less severe. He likes it, but it doesn’t feel quite like Laios.
“Can I?” Laios begins, “Fuck you, I mean.”
Kabru can’t help but snort, it’s such a ridiculous way to phrase it. Bluntly genuine in a way only Laios can be.
“If that’s what you want.”
“But do you want that?” Laios’ brow furrows, unsatisfied with that answer.
“I’ve been dreaming about it,” He leans in close to whisper in Laios’ ear, “I want you so bad it’s killing me.”
Kabru scrambles to get his clothes off, tossing them off to the side. He reaches into his bedside table for something to make this a little easier and readjusts them so that he can be underneath. He wants to feel Laios’ weight on top of him.
He allows Laios to get him ready; expecting it to be unskilled and uncomfortable, not caring because he needs Laios inside him already. However, he’s surprisingly deft.
“Have you done this before?” His fingers are much thicker than Kabru’s and he’s so careful that if Kabru didn’t know better, he’d call it teasing.
“Not this,” Laios stops moving, much to Kabru’s dismay, “Why, am I doing it wrong?”
“It’s good,” He hooks his arms around Laios’ shoulders, trying to keep him close, “You don’t have to be so gentle with me, I won’t break.”
He gets bored of it quickly, too excited about what’s next to really enjoy it.
“Ok, ok enough,” It probably isn’t, but he likes the stretch.
Laios pulls out of him rather unceremoniously. Though any complaints Kabru may have had are dispelled by the sight in front of him. The image of Laios above him, his face half-feral with lust and his hands undoing his pants, short circuits something in his head. Anticipation sets his skin on fire.
Laios is hung, he’d been right about that. And when he finally, finally, pushes in, it feels like a jigsaw falling into place. He was meant to have Laios like this, he’s certain of it. Nothing in his life so far has felt quite so correct as Laios’ body pressed against him.
Kabru lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and with it goes any tenseness. He feels like he’s melting. Laios is still when he bottoms out, resting his forehead against Kabru’s shoulder, he’s warm and heavy.
“Fuck me,” Kabru pets at the back of his neck, feeling short hair, “Like you wanted to.”
There’s no real finesse to the way Laios moves; any semblance of rhythm dictated by desperation. It doesn’t matter. As far as Kabru’s concerned being fucked well has nothing on being fucked with desire- not when it comes to Laios. It feels good anyway, a little rough, but Kabru’s never cared for being treated gently.
Laios’ mouth is all over him; teeth and tongue. Licking wet stripes along his shoulder, nipping at his neck. Any bare skin he can reach. It’s like he wants to eat him alive. He almost wants him to; wants him to bite down as hard as he can while he pushes into him.
“Good boy- good dog,” He rambles, holding Laios tight against him, he’s not sure where it comes from but it feels right, “Such a good dog.”
Laios must feel it too, because he stills for a moment. The sound of him panting above Kabru is maddening, he wants to hear it forever.
“I want to be yours,” Laios’ voice is rough, he can feel it reverberating through his eardrums, “I want to be your pet.”
He should’ve guessed this would be a thing for Laios; this kind of dehumanisation. He’s more surprised that it’s doing something for him as well. Maybe it’s just the desire to keep Laios, to have him as his own.
“You already are,” He smooths his hand over Laios’ hair, “My lovely little mutt.”
Laios’ tongue drags along the side of his face and then along his cheek. It’s a little bit disgusting, but it makes him laugh. Kabru doubts he has any intention of stopping by himself, so he pulls Laios’ head back to get a good look at him. It’s a sight he’d like to capture, one he could paint endlessly if he had the talent. He wants it forever too.
He looks happy and loved and so frighteningly beautiful that it aches just to see. His skin is flushed, and his pupils blown wide. He fixes Kabru with a lopsided smile and it’s so perfect he wants to scream.
It’s a little bit terrifying just how badly he wants to keep him. So much so he’d rather Laios die than leave.
“You should cum in me; I want you to cum inside me,” He orders, or maybe pleads, “Be good for me.”
He’s not sure why he wants it so badly, perhaps just to keep Laios inside him a little longer.
Laios just nods dumbly, his hand coming to rest on Kabru’s stomach.
“Can feel it,” He mumbles, and Kabru doesn’t understand what he means, not until he presses down. Something about the sensation, or even just the thought, has Kabru seeing stars. He’d sort of hoped Laios would cum before him but it’s not looking good.
“I can feel myself inside of you,” Laios mutters in his ear, and it’s not really the words, rather the nip he punctuates them with that does it for Kabru. It’s hardly anything; barely more than his teeth grazing Kabru’s skin, but it’s the last straw. He digs his fingernails into Laios’ back in some vain attempt to pull him somehow closer. It’s better than any word he could find to describe it.
Laios doesn’t stop; he fucks him through it, chasing his own release. That’s what this was about after all, right? Not that Kabru’s complaining, there’s something delightful about the excess stimulation.
“Sweet boy,” His brain feels like much, spewing out whatever encouragement it can fathom, “You’re so well behaved- so good to me- such a nice puppy.”
Laios groans, low and rough, he stills. Kabru can feel it. Can feel the way it fills him up. If he had the stamina, he’d go another round just to feel it again.
He feels ridiculous.
Laios rolls off of him and he feels cold. He feels sort of weightless too, without the steady pressure of Laios on top of him. He doesn’t much like either of those feelings.
Kabru turns his head to look at Laios, his cheek pressing against the pillow. He wonders what he’s thinking, if he’s thinking anything at all. He never knows what’s going on in that head.
“You’d better believe me, Laios; I’m so obsessed with you that it’s unbearable, you’ve done something terrible to me,” He’s not sure where it comes from, it drags itself out of thin air and into the lingering silence, “I think I might love you.”
“I don’t think love is supposed to be terrible,” Laios laughs at him.
“Oh, but it is- it’s terrible and awful and scary and I feel it every time I look at you.”
“I don’t feel scared when I’m with you,” Laios parries, “I just feel full.”
“That’s nice,” He lets his hand interlock with Laios’, tucked neatly between them. The way Laios squeezes it softly has his heart crawling into his throat.
“You make me feel loved,” Laios doesn’t meet his eyes, he rarely ever does, his head still turned to the ceiling, “I want to make you feel that way too.”
It’s funny how serenely Laios can say that. Kabru feels like he’s dying.
“So you love me?” Kabru asks, he’s trying to play it cool but he thinks he might claw Laios’ heart right out his chest if he doesn’t say yes.
“Yeah, I guess so.”