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Just one Night

Summary:

Quick one shot written for an art piece, will be updated with link when art is posted.

Work Text:

"Stop looking at me like that." Chaol's voice was loud in the empty space.

Dorian smirked, raising his sweat-slick arms in a mirrored fighting stance, "Like what?"

The rough gravel of his voice sent a chill up Chaol's spine. He rolled his shoulders and huffed a frustrated breath in answer. His next move had him tucking under Dorian's left arm, shoving an elbow into his side to knock him off balance.

The king regained his footing swiftly, dodging Chaol's lunge for his legs as Dorian wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled them down to the matt. His chuckle reverberated through Chaol as he made his way behind him, sliding his arm around his neck as he went.

Heat spread through his body like wildfire when the king nestled his hips against him. He felt Dorian's breath stirring the hair at his nape, cooling his damp skin from hours of sparring. He swallowed hard to hide his shiver, and Dorian moved closer, his heartbeat erratic against Chaol's back.

"Chaol..." Dorian's grip around his throat tightened before it loosened, and he nudged his hips again.

Chaol’s eyes fluttered shut at his name on those lips, at the feel of skin on skin, at the press of something long and hard against his clothed rear.

Fuck.

He tried standing, tried to ignore it, but when he reached back to extricate himself from Dorian's grip and felt a groan at his ear, and he was a goner. His hand instead found its home in those raven waves that were just as soft as he'd imagined.

Dorian's grip loosened entirely, and Chaol turned his head at the exact moment the king's lip sought his.

 Chaol flushed as he swallowed a groan, feeling the vibrations of it from the chest pressed against his back. His mouth opened in response to the king's prodding tongue.

He didn't think about the consequences as he shifted the hand gripping Dorian's hair, bracing himself further on one hand as he reached back and tugged at his trousers, freeing the length of him. He mirrored the movement with his teeth and the king's bottom lip.

Dorian growled, flattening his hand against Chaol's muscled chest, sitting up on his knees as he tugged him flush against him.

He gasped against Dorian's mouth at the movement, hand shooting up to grip his hair, but the black-haired male moved quicker. His left hand came up around Chaol's reaching arm, long, calloused fingers cupping the back of his neck in a restrictive hold, causing him to arch.

Chaol's cock had hardened painfully at the feel of the insistent hardness behind him, it hardened further as he rocked against it.

"What are you waiting for?" His heavy breathing betrayed him, even as his tone remained mocking.

"Hmm," Chaol could have sworn a cold breeze danced across his skin, and he shivered. It broke out across his body as Dorian's fingers traced the line of his trousers before tugging them down below his ass. "You can be a sore loser," Chaol's arch deepened, a hiss slipping between his barred teeth as Dorian gripped his shaft. "Are you sure you can take it?"

Chaol smirked and nodded against Dorian's grip on his neck, but he paused "Gods above," He gripped the wrist, working his length, and Dorian slowed his pace, "For fucks sake, Dorian." He knew what he was waiting for, knew that he needed to hear it.
"Yes."

Dorian laughed and rubbed his leaking tip against his entrance; Chaol felt it spread, the lack of friction making him wonder what magic allowed such things before all thoughts fled his mind as Dorian sheathed himself completely.


***


"Fuck!"

Chaol's body shuddered as Dorian began to move, his magic ensuring the friction caused only pleasure. He tightened his grip on his nape as he snapped his hips. "Mouthy."

He felt Chaol's growl rumble against his chest and didn't bother hiding his smile. He shifted their positions, relinquishing his hold on Chaol's nape to grip his face, turning him to taste his next gasp as he thrust in at a different angle.

"Dorian-" He broke off in a groan as Dorian picked up his pace on his cock, stroking him harder, faster as he churned his hips.

He wasn't sure he'd ever get over the mind-melting tightness, over the masculine grunts Chaol made against his mouth, over the way Chaol seemed unaware of his bruising grip when he touched him, driving him insane.

The moonlight reflected off their sweat-damp skin as they moved. Dorian nudged his legs wider with a muscled thigh, pushing Chaol back down to his hands and knees and bringing his chest to his back. Dorian licked his spine and couldn’t help sinking his teeth into Chaol’s shoulder as their positions changed.

The hand of the king shuddered as he came, Dorian's hips moving frantically as he chased his own release. He clamped his teeth harder before letting go, soothing the mark with his tongue.

Chaol's groan echoed with Dorian’s in the empty space as he came, hips stuttering against his best friend.

The Hand of the King...

It didn't matter in that moment, though; none of it did.

Nothing but this.