Warnings: Slash pairing, (M/M), slight allusion to rape.
A/N: Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged.
Another God damned hot day...
Ten in the morning. Ten in the damn morning, and the sun was already beating mercilessly down on the Spanish countryside. The whole area was suffering a massive heat wave, and every day dragged on for the residents of Pueblo and the castle. Even the shade inside was stiflingly hot, and midday often saw the entire village gather at the lake, each person taking cautious dips close to the shore whilst Del Lago watched hungrily. The beast's eyes sat just above the water level, waiting for any Ganado foolish enough to venture too far from land. The monks at the castle sought out the dungeons near the sewer where the air was permanently chilled; a comfortable place to be on such hot days.
Ramon Salazar grumbled to himself as he looked out over the hedge maze, one of his Verdugo guards giving quiet, uninterpretable clicks by his side. The heat and humidity was making him even more irritable than usual, and his garden was some kind of barren waste ground. The grass was starting to turn yellow and brown, lawn fading from the lustrous green it once was into something that resembled a ragged, molting animal. Speaking of ragged molting animals, he watched the Colmillo as they lay in the shade of the bridge; panting and flanks heaving though they were doing little more than trying to sleep through the intense heat.
No matter how little clothing he wore, the Castallan seemed to be permanently soaked with sweat. It made the material cling to his skin with an unpleasant feeling and he resisted stripping off to walk around naked. He didn't wish to excite the Verdugo, or gather the attention of-
"There will be a storm tonight." The voice of Osmund Saddler interrupted his thoughts, the man sounding infuriatingly relaxed. Salazar turned with a glare, noticing with slight surprise that the priest in his heavy robes was either unaffected by the heat, or was doing a damn good job of showing no discomfort. The man was so...arrogant, Salazar was beginning to wonder how people were swayed by his so-called 'charm' that the village chief, Mendez, kept talking about. So far, he had seen none of it. He had only agreed to release Las Plagas in the hopes of repenting for the sins of his ancestors, not because the self-important priest had influenced him.
"How do you know?" He asked suspiciously, wondering if Saddler had decided to take his holier-than-thou attitude outside of the church and now claim he could control the weather or some such crap. Saddler walked past him and rested his arms on the short stone wall, a glazed expression on his face as he turned it towards the sky. "I can smell it coming," he half-whispered, inhaling deeply as though by way of demonstration. Salazar almost laughed at how ridiculous that sounded, but managed to turn his look of amusement into another glare. "I thought you'd be pleased," the priest stated, watching him. "You've been complaining about this weather for weeks. I was going to tell Luis to inject you with something that would turn you into a creature without a mouth." Salazar frowned, the humor passing him by as he remembered why he hoped Saddler was wrong about a storm coming.
"I don't like storms," he blurted out, a not-so-familiar feeling of dread curling inside his stomach. Saddler stared at him in disbelief. "I just- they are so loud...and the lightening! It's dangerous! If it struck someone..." He could feel his face becoming slightly red, knowing that he sounded like a child. Saddler suddenly stood directly in front of him, Salazar jumping in surprise at how fast he could move. The priest tilted his head in a distinctly owlish manner as he placed both hands on the younger man's shoulders. "You are scared of them," he summarized, looking thoughtful. Salazar fidgeted, embarrassed. "Well, I'm- I mean to say, it's not so foolish, some people are scare-worried about worse things, and...well, everyone's scared of something... and...they are really loud..." he trailed off, feeling like an gibbering child. Saddler's grip tightened on his shoulders as the priest's mind ticked over.
"If you like," he said eventually, "I could always...stay with you tonight, if you're indeed that scared-"
"No!" Salazar squeaked in alarm, trying to subtly dislodge Saddler's hands. "N-no, that's fine, my Lord...I'll be alright, my right hand will be there..." He stopped abruptly. He wished he hadn't said that. Dear God he wished he hadn't said that.
Saddler grinned slowly, his eyes lighting up with some amusement. Salazar, in turn, felt his face flush with anger. He didn't like being caught off guard and vulnerable, joke or not. Especially if what he said could be interpreted as something vulgar. "Anyway..." he continued, "I'd rather have my right hand than you! It would satisfy me far more than you ever could!" The snide comment was worth seeing the smile vanish from Saddler's face.
He began to stalk away from the stung priest, wary of any retaliating attacks. Heading to the cooler inside of his bedroom, the Vurdugo still pacing tirelessly beside him, he stopped at the threshold as he heard the priest's voice again.
"What will you do tonight?"
He continued walking, calling back over his shoulder in a skeptical tone. "I doubt there will be a storm, but even if there is, I do not need...comforting." He spat the last word out, just within Saddler's earshot, and then muttered to himself, reassuringly. "I don't need anyone with me... I'll be fine..."
The heavy drop in pressure woke him.
Drowsily, he opened his eyes, the scent of nearby rain swirling through the open window. The oil lamps that hung from the walls cast a faint orange glow over everything, but didn't penetrate the darkness outside. Still half-asleep, he thought nothing of the change in atmosphere and turned on his side, waiting to fall into slumber once again.
A horrendous noise made him sit bolt upright, eyes wide with fear and blood racing with adrenaline. Another thunderclap sounded; nearer, louder. Salazar dove under the sheets, mind and heart both frantic with panic, painfully aware that he was alone with his fear. Despite what he had told Saddler, and however much he trusted them, he did not allow his Verdugo into his bed chambers. He thought it... inappropriate that they should be in the presence of his mother's portrait, considering that the Castallan knew how much she would have abhorred the unnatural creatures.
Yet another boom echoed through his room, the air around him charging with electricity. He ventured a peek from under the covers, squirming back into them as a bright flash lit the room. The thunder growled again like a hungry beast, and Salazar was sure that he was the prey. He could literally feel it as it rolled around the sky, a heavy vibration that made his stomach squirm.
He was so wrapped up in his fear that he didn't notice the door open.
Salazar quivered under the sheets, feeling like a rabbit trapped in its warren with a fox prowling outside. Granted, the fox was an elemental force that couldn't actually hurt him, but his rooted phobia was growing inside his mind, paralyzing vines of fear snaking through his veins. His eyes were shut tight, mouth moving in a childish prayer as he tried to will the storm away. The hands over his ears did little to help ease his panic; the Castallan could still feel the shuddering power of the storm as it roared through the air.
A hand was laid on his shoulder. Glad for a distraction from his fear, he uncovered his ears and prised open his eyes in time to see Saddler slipping into the bed. Naked skin touched his own and Salazar flinched, drawing the sheets around his body in embarrassment. His yellow eyes turned venomous, fear all but forgotten as he glared daggers at the cult leader. Saddler seemed quite unashamed of his nakedness. Since Salazar had wrapped all the sheets around himself, the older man's body was completely uncovered and the Castallan could not stop his eyes from straying to a certain part of the Illuminados leader's anatomy before quickly glancing back to his face. A tinge of pink appeared in his cheeks as Saddler chuckled.
"Ramon... see something that interests you?" Saddler's voice was deliberately taunting, and Salazar was wondering if the man was making a reference to his diminutive stature. He was sensitive about his height as it was, but if Saddler was going to talk to him as though he were a prepubescent child...
"No, Lord Saddler. I see nothing that neither interests nor impresses me." He replied stiffly, keeping his eyes firmly on the cult leader's upper body and trying to ignore the storm. Saddler's bark of laughter was covered by an impossibly loud thunderclap. The storm was now directly overhead and the wind appeared to have dropped slightly, slowing its advance. Salazar twitched with renewed fear, shrinking back into the sheets again, failing to notice Saddler sliding his body closer.
He had been wrong about the storm being the fox, he realized. Saddler was the fox that had just dug his way into Salazar's warren of safety. Now he looked as though he would like to eat the little rabbit that trembled so close to him..
"You should be glad I am here-"
"-No." Salazar interrupted, irritation mingled with fright. "I know why you are here, Osmund. Do not think me a simple child who does not understand lust. My library is full of books detailing the finer points of human nature, and though you may not be human in mind anymore, your body still craves intimacy."
"Then give it to me!" Saddler's face suddenly twisted into a snarl, eyes filled with desire and body taut, ready to give chase should his rabbit try to flee. Salazar watched the changes in the other man's body, for the first time feeling truly afraid of him. He was a predator, the Castallan realized. But a predator who hungered for something other than food.
Salazar swallowed, aware of what his answer would incur.
Another roll of thunder echoed around the castle, as though Saddler's anger at being denied was given a voice and tossed into the sky. The cult leader's face turned grave for a moment, regretting what he was about to say.
"That was not a request, Ramon."
Before Salazar could blink, Saddler tore the sheets away from his small frame, grabbing his arms. The Castallan shrieked in synchronization with a clap of thunder, trying vainly to throw the other man off as he was straddled. Saddler easily held both his hands still, and Salazar's frantic struggles became less so as he realized the futility of it. He hissed in fear.
"Why- why me? Mendez... he'd be more than happy to-" Saddler cut him off with a kiss, tongue sliding over lips that remained defiantly shut. With more than a sliver of annoyance, Saddler gripped both of Salazar's hands in one of his. The other caressed the Castallan's flat stomach before stroking lower, past thick hairs, and not-so-carefully encompassed his penis. A stuttering sob came from Salazar's throat, the exact opposite of what Saddler intended. He quickly let go, pulling away from the one-sided kiss.
"I want you."
Salazar had his eyes tightly closed, teeth gritting with terror. The Illuminados leader blinked in disconcertion, bringing a finger up to gently stroke the side of the younger man's face. Salazar's hard flinch away made him frown.
"P-please... Lord Saddler, I'm not..." Salazar opened his eyes, trying to convey his panic.
Saddler's head tilted to one side, the cult leader genuinely confused.
"Why are you so afraid of this happening? I will not harm you." His eyes narrowed, boring into Salazar's as though reading his mind. They widened with sudden realization.
"Ah... no-one has shown you intimacy in this way before, have they? You've never had the touch of another..." Salazar's face bloomed with color, eyes desperately averting to the side with embarrassment. Saddler gave a light chuckle, fingers gliding over the side of Salazar's cheek and slipping through light locks.
"Do not feel so ashamed, Ramon. You have my apologies at being so roughly treated, I assumed you knew what will happen. I will be more gentle with you now."
"I- I do know..."
"Oh, really? You know the exquisite pain of being penetrated for the first time? You know the intense feeling of intimacy as your body joins with another?" Salazar squirmed uncomfortably, the words stirring whispers of lust within him. Saddler leaned down, his lips slowly brushing the shell of the Castallan's ear.
"Not all things can be learned from books, especially not matters of desire." He traced the ear with his tongue, Salazar going still beneath him as the foreign touch ignited his senses.
"These things can only be learned from experience."
A flash of lightning brightened the room for a split-second, Salazar watching as half of Saddler's face was lit up. The man's eyes looked almost frenzied, and the Castallan swallowed at the sheer need that the cult leader was emitting.
Saddler lent down again, mouth barely meeting Salazar's as a request. The younger man hesitated for a second and then tilted his head up, timidly parting his lips to allow Saddler's exploring tongue inside. Never had he thought that a single kiss could be so arousing. Previously, he had imagined it to be quite disgusting, but to actually experience it...
Saddler broke the kiss, an unexpected whimper of disappointment issuing from Salazar. However, when the older man began to slowly lave at his neck, he gave a soft, conceding sigh, laying his head on the pillow and daring to run his hands through the cult leader's hair. The other man looked up from his licking to observe the contented look on Salazar's face.
"Well, Ramon, do I have your permission to continue?"
Salazar blinked down at him, fingers still entangled in dark hair.
"Do you require my permission to continue?"
Saddler chuckled again, a hand lightly tracing along the Castallan's chest. He tapped at a nipple, smirking when Salazar's eyes widened at the sensation.
"No. But it would make both of us feel better."
The younger man smiled faintly.
"Then yes, you have my permission."
Saddler smiled wolfishly. Instead of resuming the assault on Salazar's neck, he moved lower, bypassing the chest and settling himself with the Castallan's lower stomach. His tongue once again danced over smooth skin, but this time Salazar was very much aware of his erection under Saddler's jaw. The cult leader seemed to be ignoring it, but Salazar was growing increasingly uncomfortable, especially since it was continually rubbing against Saddler's throat. His hands returned to the hair, this time exerting a little pressure on the scalp by way of a hint.
Salazar didn't notice the threatening rumble of thunder anymore, nor the pounding of rain outside. He was aching for something to send his lust through the roof. He could just imagine how it would feel to have that slick tongue run over his erection, from root to tip, to have it encased in a warm mouth-
No sooner had he thought about it, Saddler started to do it. Salazar mewled loudly with pleasure, his hips moving upwards as the cult leader's mouth engulfed him entirely. His mind fogged with passion, the only existing thing in the world was Saddler's very talented tongue.
Saddler lifted his mouth from the Castallan abruptly, laughing as the younger man whined with need.
"No, Ramon," he chided softly as the Castallan attempted to wrench his head back down, "now it is time for something even better. You have oil?"
Salazar looked blank.
"Oil, lubrication? If you don't have any it'll hurt you, badly, because I'm not stopping."
It took a few seconds for the younger man to respond; the lust was making it hard to process Saddler's words.
"I- I think so... maybe, some lotion in the drawer."
The cult leader rolled off him and onto his back, nudging at the Castallan with his foot.
"Go and get it."
It didn't occur to Salazar to protest.
Saddler lay on his side, an elbow propping him up, enjoying the visual delight of Salazar's white skin contrasting with his red erection as the younger man fumbled about in a bedside drawer. Though it needed no encouragement, he wrapped a hand around his own, eyes raking over the body he would shortly be occupying.
Salazar clambered back over the bed towards Saddler, the crystal bottle clutched in his fist. He held it out to the cult leader who took the stopper off and drizzled some on his hand, sniffing the slippery substance. With a nod, he poured out more, motioning for the Castallan to lie back down. Salazar happily complied, his small body trembling with anticipation. Saddler straddled him again, leaning his head just over the younger man's shoulder. He couldn't resist gliding slick hands back over the Castallan's stiff penis, listening with pride at the gasps of pleasure he was able to so skillfully elict.
The older man inhaled Salazar's scent, nostrils picking up fragile arousal and the unmistakable smell of perfumed aristocracy. He grunted, still teasing Salazar with his hands, pupils dilating as the musky scent of arousal increased and sent his own growing stronger.
The Castallan moaned, bringing Saddler's attention back to him. Noticing how close he was to his climax, he quickly withdrew his hands, ignoring as the younger man gave incoherent noises of frustration.
Pouring more oil onto a couple of his fingers, Saddler rested his elbow at one side of the shivering body beneath him.
Salazar arched into the cult leader's awkward embrace as he felt a slippery finger brush against his entrance, tenderly trekking over the sensitive skin. Wide yellow eyes met with Saddler's as the finger pushed inside him, mouth opening soundlessly as the other man grinned down at him. It felt so utterly strange that he lay for a moment, dumbstruck. There was no denying the pleasure of it though, and he felt himself clench around the finger as it began to move, then was joined by another. Now he felt pain, albeit a brief amount, as he was stretched, teeth biting his lower lip with the sensation. Saddler twisted the digits inside him and Salazar outright wailed with passion.
He felt the fingers leave him, something much thicker and blunter nudging intently against him. Salazar looked up, startled. He knew what it was, understood what was about to happen, but he also wanted to remind Saddler that he had never done this before. He licked his dry lips, voice much higher than usual.
"P-please... go slow-"
Saddler looked up at him, eyes dark and a smile gracing his face.
"Do not worry, amor, I have had plenty of experience in satisfying naïve lovers. Relax, and remember-" his hand curled around a leg, lifting it to hook over his back, "-breathe."
Salazar was infinitely relieved that he had lotion on-hand as Saddler's thick erection began to enter his body. His eyes closed, twitching as he concentrated on trying to relaxing his muscles. There was a dull pain that made it hard to loosen up; however, the lubricant was fulfilling its purpose. Saddler was pressing down into him, a slow yet continuous motion. The Castallan already felt too full, too stretched and he gasped with a mixture of pleasure and pain. The cult leader was right- this was intimate. Never before had he considered this seriously, having a lover on top of him, inside him, all around him-
Saddler groaned into the Castallan's neck, Salazar amazed, through the bursts of lust in his mind, that he was still entering him.
No- no, he can't possibly get any deeper-
The small man yelled suddenly as Saddler jabbed his hips forward, finally sheathing himself completely inside Salazar. The cult leader gave an answering moan, keeping perfectly still as the Castallan writhed and bit the back of his own hand to stifle his squeaks. Saddler gently pulled it away from his mouth.
"No," he panted, body quivering with the need to move. "I want to hear you."
The smaller man almost sobbed, his arms coming up and around Saddler's neck. He kissed him, forcefully, this time his own tongue doing the exploring as the cult leader's stroked over it.
One of Saddler's hands reached down, wrapping around Salazar's erection. He pulled gently, the Castallan bucking into his fist and moving the thick organ inside him. The man beneath him broke the kiss with a loud gasp, teeth then gritting together as Saddler began to withdraw. The first hard thrust in made him screech, dragging his nails down Saddler's back. Blood immediately welled from the scratches, but it only seemed to further the older man's lust and caused his pace to quicken.
Saddler's moans were deep, reverberating inside Salazar's chest. The young Castallan buried his face in Saddler's neck, lips desperately sucking at the skin and leaving red marks.
Outside, the storm rose to a crescendo; thunder constantly exploding overhead. The lovers ignored it, thrusting feverishly against each other, bodies slick with sweat. Salazar pulled away from Saddler's shoulder as he heard his name being whispered. His eyes were captured by the other man's, and he shuddered under the passionate gaze.
"Ramon- I want to see your face."
He obediently pulled back a little more, moaning at a particularly hard thrust from Saddler. The man was gripping his erection hard, pulling fast. Salazar whined. Just a few more strokes, and he would reach his peak. Saddler stared at him intently, locking their eyes together. The Castallan's face was a picture of lust, heavy pants causing his chest to heave. His body tightened under the onslaught of sensations, fingers desperately knotting in Saddler's hair. The scream as he came almost deafened the cult leader. His release was caught by Saddler's hand, the man watching with lust as he thrust frantically one last time, and then collapsed, exhausted, back onto the bed.
Saddler continued to push into the small body, each driving thrust causing the Castallan's hips to violently buck upwards. His body stiffened, a shaky moan ripped from his lips as he found his own climax, seed spilling deep inside the gasping body under him.
They lay together in the same position for a few minutes, panting, before Saddler slipped out of Salazar, moving to the side so he could lie on his back next to the Castallan. His body sang with contentment, the skin on his neck bearing the proud marks of Salazar's teeth. The cult leader looked towards the younger man, smirking at the shocked expression on his face. The Castallan's body still heaved with each deep breath he took, lips and face flushed with blood. Semen coated his stomach and was beginning to slide down his sides and onto the sheets.
As he wiped his hand on the sheet, mind briefly thrown with recalling the recent events, Saddler's attention was suddenly grabbed by Salazar's hoarse voice.
"Will... will you stay tonight?"
Salazar's yellow eyes were wide as he said this, the cult leader realizing his need to still remain close. He smiled reassuringly.
"Of course. After all..." He lay on his side, trailing a hand across the Castallan's stomach, mindless of the cooling body fluid. "...when the morning comes, we will both be refreshed enough to continue."
"Continue? But- I thought we had finished..." Saddler laughed gently, a hand stroking Salazar's head as though he were a dog.
"Oh no. I still have so much more to teach you, but for the moment we will rest."
Salazar grumbled slightly like a petulant child, but soon calmed again after Saddler embraced him, his arms tightly winding around the younger man's body. They both relaxed, muscles loosening and eyes closing in preparation for sleep.
As he began to drift off, Salazar realized that despite his initial speculation, Saddler could be a great comforter. He pulled the arms around him tighter, and, for the first time in an age, fell asleep with a smile on his face.
The monks would be hard pressed not to notice the lift in their master's mood over the next few days, nor the constant presence of Lord Saddler by his side. No longer did the Castallan screech his orders or send random zealots falling to their death in his throne room. They could be heard muttering about this all throughout the castle, until one particularly curious monk decided to peer through an open window to see what the strange noises were coming from the room.
The mutterings stopped after that.