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Lightning arched across the ever stormy sky of the Thunderyards. Despite the desolation, the sight was always awe-inspiring to Calixte. The electricity was pungent and buzzed under his skin. Beneath his feet, the ground rumbled under the continuous lightning strikes. Levin energy seemed to fill his body, sending palpitations to his heart.
Or maybe that was due to the tall elezen striding ahead of him. Calixte eyed his clothed back, admired the muscular arms. Arms that held him down just a few days ago. He flushed at the memory.
“Urna Variabilis,” the Tyrant stated. “Have you hunted one before?”
“I can’t say for sure,” Calixte replied, looking away when the man glanced over his shoulder.
“Hmph.”
“What?”
“You don’t remember the names of all those you’ve fought.”
“I stopped keeping track.”
“Hah! You say it with no arrogance. A testament to how many battles you have won.”
“I suppose…” Calixte shrugged. He sneaked a glance at him, unable to help himself. “You’ll get there one day.”
The Tyrant scoffed. Calixte could swear he saw a smile from his angle. A silly spark of joy danced up his skin. He turned his attention to the land around them.
“So, I take it that is the name of the creature we’re tracking.”
“Aye. A rogue machine possessed by levin aether. One of the more dangerous marks, if you believe you’re up for it.”
“Why else would I have come along?”
“You tell me,” he smirked at him. The damn arrogance stoked a fire in Calixte. That smug look that said he knew he had been staring.
“Obviously to teach you a thing or two,” Calixte shot back, ears warming up.
He only got a chuckle in return.
It wasn’t long before they located their mark. Despite the formidable capabilities of the advanced killing machine, the two of them easily took it down. A deafening bolt of lightning struck just yalms away. Calixte squinted through the blinding flash, sensing a coalescence of levin aether. A wispy purple being prowled across the land.
“What’s that one called?” Calixte nodded towards it.
“Heshuala.”
Again, the creature was no match. Calixte simply watched in admiration as his hunting partner moved with grace and power, landing the final blow. He hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head. The Tyrant never offered his name. Once when asked, he shrugged it off, stressing the importance of keeping up the persona. Which to Calixte, seemed silly after the intimacy they shared. He hadn’t pressed the matter, even if he was still incredibly curious.
“Do I get a hint at least?” Calixte asked.
“To what?” He glanced at him.
“Your name.”
“Maybe in time.”
Calixte pouted but dropped the subject as he followed him to the next mark.
One after another, the beasts in the Thunderyards were easily quelled. Calixte put away his twin swords, crossed his arms, and sighed.
“Not enough sport?” the Tyrant asked with a knowing smile.
“Even for you, this is disappointingly easy, isn’t it?”
“Even for me?” he snorted, eyes narrowed. “Surely, you can come up with something better.”
“Clearly, I don’t need to,” Calixte replied with a small smirk of his own.
“Arrogant whelp.” The corner of his lips twitched, and he stepped closer. “The Arcadion has rubbed off on you.”
“I think it’s just you. ‘The Tyrant and the heel’. Am I not also playing a role?” he said lightly, hands shrugging. He could not deny that his heart quickened at the undivided attention on him.
“Hmph.” His eyes raked over Calixte’s body. “We ought to have that rematch. The fans have been restless. And it would make better sport.”
“Mm… slightly better,” Calixte hummed in mock innocence.
“Tch. Low effort jabs. One might think you craven.”
“One might think you desperate,” he smiled, batting his eyelashes. Then, he sighed and said more seriously. “I’d have to perform though, wouldn’t I? Put on a show and all that. Still feels strange.”
“Hm. Then a practice match for now.”
“Eh? Now? Here?” Calixte blinked in surprise.
“Why not?”
“…”
“If you win,” The Tyrant said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll tell you my name.”
“R-Really?”
“You’ll have to best me first.”
“You might as well tell me now, then,” Calixte said with a playful grin.
“That easy? You would not be satisfied.”
“Guess not,” he replied in a lilting tone.
They both stepped into battle stances. The Tyrant drew his scythe and Calixte his swords. Calixte stared into purple eyes that watched just as carefully, a fire burning inside. With a slow breath, he settled into the all too familiar headspace. His senses sharpened, every muscle coiled, heart pounding like a war drum.
Legs tensed and powered with a rush of internal aether, Calixte thrust one of his swords towards his opponent’s chest. It was parried as he expected, and he struck with the other. He ducked around the deadly swing of the scythe, closing distance to cut at the shoulder. The point just barely nicked into flesh.
The Tyrant growled and changed his weapon to a great sword, easily fending him off. Calixte channeled aether in his upper body and brought both swords up in time to block a powerful swing. Sparks flew as the huge blade scraped towards his neck. The edge just slipped by Calixte’s face as he redirected the force of it and spun around to slash. Their blades collided again. The Tyrant’s teeth were bared in a wide grin, and Calixte found himself smiling back.
He was pushed back by the Tyrant's strength, and he disengaged just enough to regain his footing. The Tyrant brought down his weapon in its battle axe form. Calixte danced out of range on light feet. Every exhilarating moment rushed in his veins. Razor sharp focus in the heat of battle was a sensation he relished.
When next the axe smashed towards him, Calixte pinned it down with his swords crossed over it. Swinging his weight forth, he drop-kicked the Tyrant in the chest, making him stumble back with a grunt. Calixte snatched up one of his swords and dashed for him. To his surprise, the Tyrant managed to grab his arm and throw him to the ground. Gritting his teeth, he immediately wrapped his legs around the Tyrant, yanking him down as well. They grappled on the ground, throwing punches and rolling over one another.
Finally, Calixte managed to pin him down. Right knee pressed on his left bicep. One hand holding down his right arm. One blade to his neck. They were practically snarling at each other, chests heaving, adrenaline pumping. Both had their fair share of cuts and bruises.
“Do you yield?” Calixte breathed. Muscles underneath him tensed, as if the Tyrant wanted to keep fighting. He pressed down harder. Then, the body under him slowly eased up.
“Tch…”
“Well?” Calixte goaded.
The Tyrant let his head drop back with a muted thud. For a while, he stared up with a heated gaze as they regained their breath. Calixte swallowed hard. His mind cleared just enough to notice the lust in those eyes. And the fact that they were both aroused. Stubbornly, he tried to ignore it, tried to act like his face wasn’t heating up. His eyes followed the way the Tyrant licked his bloodied lip.
“Arkose,” the man finally said softly.
“Hm?”
“My name.”
Calixte’s eyes widened. Though his hold relaxed, his opponent had no intention of continuing their match. He smiled in triumph. “I win then?”
Arkose snorted. He pulled his hands free and laid them on Calixte’s thighs. Ah, right. Calixte was still straddling him. Quite close to his face, in fact. He slid back, intending to stand, but those hands stopped him. He was pretty much sitting on his chest.
“Arkose,” Calixte said slowly, testing it on his tongue. It was a nice name.
“Mm…” He squeezed Calixte’s thighs lightly. Eyes dark with hunger.
Calixte bit his lip and grinded his hips slowly. Large hands slid up to his hips, his waist, then back down. He braced himself by placing his hands on his shoulders and leaned down closer to his face, eyes flickering to his lips.
“Arkose,” he whispered, smiling.
A moan slipped out of him as he was pulled down into a kiss.
Sliding further down to lie closer, he spread his hands out over Arkose’s firm pecs. He sighed as a rough hand carded through his hair, pulling and tilting his head to slot their mouths together. Tongues stroked and wrapped around one another. The other hand groped Calixte’s ass. Arkose rolled his hips up, grinding his hard bulge against him. Calixte broke away with a gasp and rocked back eagerly. He arched as he chased the friction.
“Arkose!” He moaned wantonly.
“Fuck,” Arkose hissed, grabbing at Calixte again, loosening his clothes. He slipped his hands in his breeches, palming him through his smallclothes. Calixte bucked into his touch, delicious pleasure flooding in his veins. His eyes flew open as Arkose tugged sharply on the fabric, ripping it in the process.
“You— ah!” Calixte groaned as fingers teased his entrance.
He reached back to wrap his hand around Arkose’s wrist. Biting his lip, he tried to focus despite the maddening touch. Conjuring up a bit of magic, he coated Arkose’s hand in makeshift lube. His eyebrows knit together, mouth falling open as he was breached.
“I… hah… Perhaps I ought to continue… calling you Tyrant,” he bit out even as he wriggled back. “Ruining my clothes…”
“I’ll be ruining much more than that,” Arkose growled, thrusting and scissoring his fingers deep inside.
Moans were punched out of Calixte, and he pressed his hands into Arkose’s chest. His body flushed with hot arousal as he rocked back and forth. The long and thick fingers inside him were almost all he needed. Just as he was getting lost in the heady passion, his weight lurched forth, hips dragged up again. Calixte planted his hands on the ground, watching with wide eyes as Arkose took his leaking cock into his mouth. The sudden wet heat made him cry out, jerking uncontrollably. Arkose held him in a bruising grip, sucking and pulling him in and out at a painfully slow pace.
Calixte cried out as fingers thrust into his sweet spot and the tip of a tongue dug into his slit. His thighs trembled and quivered, and he spread them wider, trying to chase the pleasure. Tears sprang to his eyes as he was kept in a firm hold.
“You are… the worst!” He groaned.
The bastard was smirking at him, he just knew it. Finally, as a desperate plea nearly escaped his lips, he was released. He glared down at the smug handsome face.
“Needy little thing,” Arkose chided in a husky tone.
Calixte wriggled out of the loosened grasp, straddling his abdomen again. He leaned down, chests pressed together.
“So keep up,” he whispered and kissed him.
Calixte moaned at the taste of himself. Large hands roamed his sides, back, and kneaded his ass while he felt his way down the champion’s body. He reached between them, stroking over hard muscles, down his abs, past his navel. His fingers brushed teasingly over Arkose’s bulge before undoing his pants. Calixte wrapped his hand around the large cock. Shivering, he stroked slowly, mouth watering at the idea of it deep inside him. He grinded against him a few times, then tried and failed to enclose his hand around the both of them.
Arkose grabbed fistfuls of his ass and bucked up against him, rubbing their cocks together. Calixte whimpered against his lips, shuddering at the sparks of pleasure.
“Want you,” Calixte murmured between kisses.
“You have me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Afraid I don't.”
Calixte pouted at him and bit his lip. Arkose slapped his ass in retaliation, making him yelp and hiss. “Tyrant…”
“If you want it, then claim it,” he grinned, and pulled Calixte up just enough to slide his cock between his ass cheeks.
Calixte's eyes fluttered, and he rolled his hips back. The heavy cock slid over his slippery sensitive rim, the head catching every so often. Arkose simply folded his hands behind his head to watch him.
“You work yourself up so well. And without any help.”
Calixte whined and finally lined himself up. He reached back to brace against Arkose's thighs and slowly lowered himself. Moans spilled from his lips as the thick head pushed into his entrance. His eyes fell shut as he relished every ilm stretching him, forcing his body to shape around it.
Fully seated, he cracked his eyes open and spotted Arkose clenching his jaw. His hands wrapped around Calixte's thighs, thumbs brushing the smooth skin. Calixte noted how his chest rose and fell, and his body was tense like he was restraining himself.
“Do you want to help me?” he panted, voice strained. But still, he managed a cheeky smile.
Calixte leaned forward again, planting his hands on Arkose's chest. He shuddered with every slight movement. Arkose groaned, hips thrusting up just once making Calixte moan and clench down. He squeezed Calixte's thighs before letting go. Again, he folded them behind his head.
“Depends on your performance.”
“What, I’m being rated now?” Calixte snorted. Biting his lip, he shifted slowly, feeling the heavy cock drag against his inner walls.
“So far, not well,” he smirked even though his breath was labored.
“Is that so?” Calixte glared with little effect. He raised himself carefully and sunk back down, every muscle quivering as he adjusted. “M-Maybe I should just leave... If you are so unsatisfied.”
“You wouldn’t,” Arkose chuckled. His abdomen flexed with the effort to remain still. “Mm… Look at you. You’ve been craving to have me inside you.”
“Hah… ah… As if you… aren’t as desperate,” Calixte gasped as he steadily increased his pace. He dug his fingers into Arkose’s firm chest and lifted himself just a bit higher each time.
“A far cry from you.” He rocked his hips up to meet Calixte who moaned and shuddered. “Slut.”
“Really, you can’t stop yourself.”
“Neither can you.”
Calixte’s eyes narrowed as he slowed down. He stopped and gulped. They glared at one another, panting heavily. After a few seconds, Calixte took the gamble and made to remove himself entirely. Arkose immediately grabbed his hips and yanked him down. Calixte threw his head back with a sharp keen, eyes rolling back.
“F-Fuck…”
He moaned as he felt Arkose grind deep inside. Reaching back, he grasped Arkose’s thighs once more and began riding him in earnest. Pleasure wracked his body. He needed more. Every rise and drop of his hips pushed his lust higher.
“Hells… It feels… So good,” he babbled as he bounced in Arkose’s lap.
The man was simply watching again, grunting under his breath. Calixte met his gaze, seeing purple eyes blown dark with desire. He picked up the pace and found just the right angle so that the thick head brushed against his sweet spot every time. Calixte tipped his head back, eyes shut as he moaned to the backdrop of thunder, loud enough to carry for malms.
“Arkose!” he cried out in pleasure. “Arkose! Fuck me!”
“Hah… Such a desperate whore. Losing yourself on my cock.” Moans rumbled out from his chest, hips jerking up every once in a while.
In and out, Calixte threw himself down over and over. He chased his pleasure with abandon, all coherent thoughts eaten away. His thighs were beginning to burn, but it was only given a flicker of acknowledgment. The moment his pace faltered just the slightest bit, large hands wrapped around his waist. His balance was thrown off as Arkose propped his knees up. Calixte caught himself on his shoulders, eyes opening wide as Arkose fucked him. He was pulled down into every powerful thrust that drove endless screams of pleasure from him. Tears sprang to his eyes at the intensity. Heavy balls slapped against his ass, the noise obscene in the open air around them.
“Arkose! Ah! A-Arkose…!”
“Calixte,” he breathed. Clutching Calixte in an unyielding grip, he snapped his hips up faster, aiming for the perfect angle that made him tighten and spasm. “Good boy… Scream as loud as you like. No one will hear.”
“Mm! Aaah… So close!” Calixte moaned.
He tried to hold it back, wishing to drown in the endless waves of pleasure. Arkose spread his thighs wider, finding firmer leverage. His back arched as he drove into Calixte as hard as he could, moaning out his own pleasure.
“That’s it. Such a good little slut for me.”
Calixte seized up, body completely at the mercy of Arkose. Every ilm of him springing taut as hot pleasure burst through him. He came hard, seed splattering over their stomachs and chests. He sobbed as Arkose fucked him through it and kept thrusting.
“Come inside! Fill me up, please, please!”
“Fuck!”
Calixte’s toes curled as Arkose shoved deep as he could go and released inside. The large cock continued to grind into him as if trying to push the hot seed further in. Calixte let out whimpering moans and pressed back despite all his nerves feeling fried.
“Yes… Ah…” he sighed in euphoria.
Bliss washed over his entire being, bone deep and utterly satisfied. He managed to catch himself, shaking hands framing Arkose. Gasping for breath, his eyes remained shut. He felt arms pull him down and wrap around him. Small noises dribbled out of him as he relaxed and simply breathed. Lips kissed his sweaty hair.
“Got what you wanted?” Arkose’s voice rumbled under him, after some time had passed.
Calixte smiled and turned his head to kiss the man’s chest. He peered up at him and hummed. “Very much so.”
“We should find a proper bed.”
“Y-Yours?” Calixte blinked at him, eyes widening.
“Why not?” His lips twitched and he tilted Calixte’s chin up to kiss him. Calixte moaned at the slow and deep kiss, tongues caressing in languid motion. Then, a whisper against his lips. “My walls are soundproof.”
Calixte let out a breathy laugh. “Sounds like you want to hear me scream your name more, Arkose.”