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Emmrich slides his fingers into those soft, luscious curls as Mirnan kisses his neck, their bodies as close as can be. They are in no rush today, not with the rain softly falling outside and nothing currently urging them into action. Emmrich is aroused, has been for quite some time now, but he is more than happy to stay like this for however long Mirnan would like, just touching and kissing, exploring one another's bodies in ways they never have the time for.
Emmrich’s eyes flutter closed as Mirnan's plush mouth leaves a warm trail down his throat, and Emmrich can feel his arousal now as well, digging into his hip as the boy absently ruts against him, his breath warm and sticky against Emmrich’s skin as he softly pants against him.
"I wish you had been the one to find me," Mirnan suddenly murmurs out of nowhere, apropo of nothing, and despite Emmrich’s heart skipping a beat at the sudden admission, Mirnan's mouth continues it’s descent as if he had said nothing out of the ordinary.
A rush of emotions flood into Emmrich at the words: love, shame, sadness, regret—but something else. Something almost too complex to be nameable. Mirnan had lost his parents when he was a boy, just as he had. One of the rare things they shared in common, but this. This stirs up a myriad of complex feelings within him, things that nearly bring tears to his eyes. While he had been taken in by the Watchers after his parents’ demise, Mirnan had not been so fortunate. Emmrich had received schooling and training that helped him hone his magic into the fine tuned instrument it is today, while Mirnan had been forced to endure countless types of abuse until he learned how to scale rooftops without a sound, knew exactly where to strike a man to stop his heart, could drink poison without flinching. Before he even knew what he wanted to be, his future had been decided for him; one that only death would free him from. If there was a more cruel and unjust thing to do to someone—let alone a child—Emmrich could not think of it. He’s so caught up in the whirlwind of feelings that he speaks before he can truly collect his thoughts, as if his heart knows what he wants to say before his mind does.
"I would have loved that too, Mirnan," he says, brushing his fingers over the boy’s loose curls as Mirnan continues to kiss his way down his torso, his lips warm and wet as they leave a trail all the way down to his navel. "I would have taken such good care of you, my sweet. You—ah—,” Emmrich gasps as Mirnan’s fingers curl around him, “—never would have had to go through that awful training, I would not have allowed, oh—”
Guilt washes over Emmrich as Mirnan’s soft, hot mouth envelopes him, because despite the wholly inappropriate circumstance, he cannot help but imagine it now. What it would have been like if he had been the one whom young Mirnan had attempted to steal from that fateful night. Taking him in, raising him up properly, not like those beasts in the Crows, nurturing his magic instead of shaming it and making him hide it away.
“Just like that, my boy,” Emmrich sighs and buries his fingers in Mirnan’s hair as he works him over with his skillful mouth and wicked tongue, eyes falling shut so he can absorb every sensation and commit it all to memory. “You would have been so happy here in the Necropolis,” he continues, unable to tear himself away from the fantasy, and if Mirnan's sweet whimpers are anything to go by, he is enjoying the thought just as much. “I think you would have thrived among the other—oh, Mirnan—”
Emmrich bucks up into Mirnan’s mouth on instinct, chasing that delicious wet heat as he feels himself being brought to the edge of pleasure, when suddenly—Mirnan pulls away. Emmrich panics briefly, worried he’d gone too far, said too much, but then the boy is crawling back up his body, a look of indescribable desire written across his face as he pulls Emmrich into a desperate, frantic kiss, his breath coming out so heavy and ragged that Emmrich can feel his chest heaving against his own.
“Inside me,” Mirnan pants next to Emmrich's ear, mouthing his way down the column of his throat. “Please Emmrich, now…”
And what is Emmrich to do, deny his boy what he so politely asks for? He takes a moment to return Mirnan’s kisses, dragging it out slowly, savoring the taste of him, then gently guides him onto his back. Mirnan instantly hooks a leg around him, drawing him in, and they each gasp as Emmrich enters him, his body still loose and pliant from their coupling only hours before. However, no matter how many times they take pleasure in each other's bodies this way, the feeling is always so incredible and overwhelming each and every time, like getting swept away by a current. Mirnan grasps at him like a lifeline, digging his nails in his back, tangling his fingers in his hair, wanting more kisses, more touching, more of anything Emmrich will give him—and there is nothing Emmrich would not give him, not for this beautiful, talented, wonder of a boy.
“I would’ve been good,” Mirnan gasps as Emmrich rolls his hips in slow, languorous movements, allowing them both to feel the drag of it, the pleasure wracking through their bodies like jolts of electricity with each smooth, deep thrust. “I would’ve studied, learned my magic…would've made you so proud of—oh Gods, there—”
A low growl gets caught in Emmrich’s throat when Mirnan moans like that, his cock throbbing inside of him, and he quickens his pace, slipping a hand beneath the small of Mirnan’s back as he fucks into him harder and deeper than before, working them both into a sweat.
“You would have been a blessing,” he pants, watching Mirnan’s eyes roll back each time he snaps his hips. “But you make me proud now, my darling. So good…always so, so good for me.”
He notices the tears as soon as they well up in Mirnan's eyes, and Emmrich cannot say they are unexpected. He’s only surprised his own have not spilled over yet. He gives Mirnan a soft smile, then reaches down to cup his cheek, wipe away the stray tear with the pad of his thumb.
“My beautiful boy. You are so strong, such a survivor, but you should not have had to be,” he murmurs. It’s not generally the time for such sentiments, but it doesn't seem to take either of them out of the mood. Quite the opposite, in fact. Despite the tears, he can still feel Mirnan’s body tighten around him, the proof of his arousal still dripping onto his belly. “Had you been mine—”
An audible whine spills from Mirnan’s lips as he buries his face in the crook of Emmrich’s neck, wrapping his arms around his shoulders—and he whimpers something unintelligible into Emmrich's neck. Emmrich's hips stutter, his breath catching in his throat.
“What was that, sweetness?” He asks, heart pounding against his chest. “I’m afraid I didn't quite hear you.”
Mirnan murmurs the word again, barely audible, but loud enough for Emmrich to make out this time, and something hot and wrong twists in his gut. Raw and unapologetic. And a fierce, gluttonous greed consumes him.
“Say it once more,” Emmrich whispers next to his ear, holding Mirnan close and petting his hair as he rocks into him in shallow thrusts now, dragging broken whimpers and moans from Mirnan’s mouth. “A little louder, for me.”
Then he pulls back slightly, one hand still on Mirnan’s cheek, holding his gaze as he slams back inside of him, burying himself to the hilt---and the word falls from Mirnan’s lips like a gift and a curse all at once.
“Oh my boy,” Emmrich groans, his shame and desire warring against one another, and he leans down, pressing kiss after kiss to Mirnan’s cheek, nose, forehead, the tip of each ear as the boy comes apart beautifully beneath him.
“I am here, I am here…” he murmurs, the sick feeling of guilt in his gut melting away as Mirnan clings to him, trembling through the aftershocks of his climax. The rhythmic clenching of Mirnan’s body urges Emmrich toward his own release, and with one last, deep thrust, he surges forward, pressing their foreheads together as he spills inside of him. “Daddy has you.”