40. Spiritually Disharmonious Uses of a Mirror #2
“I’m not—this isn’t because I have to.” Cass stepped into the bathroom. “I want it for me. I want to—to do s—” He swallowed. “To do sex.”
Do sex.
The part of Riot that was drowning in fear and the desire to tear Springfield Gardens apart with his bare hands heard do sex and wanted to laugh.
Where did you learn that? Was it Sage? I’m going to ask you later. I’m going to ask you and you’re going to blush and I’m going to—
Cass’s hand found the front of his own robe and pulled the fabric open to reveal his thin undershirt and linen pants sitting low on his hips. His good hand was shaking. His eyes were scared and wanting as he offered himself the way he offered everything: completely and without a net.
“Please,” Cass said. “I want to feel close to you again.”
Riot let go of the sink.
He crossed the space between them and grabbed Cass, spinning them and kissing him hard enough to push him back against the basin. Cass gasped into his mouth—the cold ceramic edge against his lower back, Riot’s size pinning him.
Riot’s hands slid under Cass’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin and the ridges of the scars he hated under his palms, but still touched gently because they were part of Cass’s body, and Cass’s body was the most important surface in the world.
His thumbs found the lowest scars, the ones on his hips, and Cass groaned.
“Off,” Riot said against his mouth. “Get these off.”
Cass worked the waistband down over his hips, and Riot helped with the underwear, dragging them down Cass’s thighs, and when his hand brushed between Cass’s legs, the slick was already dripping and coated Riot’s fingers. His cock twitched hard enough to make his vision blur.
Take him. Now. Bend him over the sink and—
Not yet.
“I can’t—I don’t think I can stay quiet,” Cass whispered, pressing his face against Riot’s neck, his words vibrating against the bite mark as he pulled at the bottom of Riot’s tunic.
“You don’t have to.” Riot yanked his tunic off so fast he was certain he heard some seams pop.
“The walls are thin. If someone hears—”
“Then we’ll be very spiritual about it.” He tilted Cass’s chin up and kissed him, working one of Cass’s arms free from his robes and he pressed him further back against the sink. “Elysians are always making transcendent noises. You’ll blend right in.”
Cass’s laugh turned into another gasp as Riot’s hand slid between his legs, stroking his cock a few times before dipping lower to circle his entrance. “How close do you want to feel, princess? This close?” Riot whispered as he slowly pushed a finger inside.
“Riot—”
“Hands on the sink. Both of them.”
“My sling—”
“Good hand on the sink, then.” Riot dropped to his knees as he eased another finger inside, shuddering as Cass clenched around him. He needed to hold back, just a little this time. Cass deserved better than how he treated him in the cellar.
Riot pulled Cass’s legs over his shoulders, licking at the slick smeared on his inner thighs. The sound Cass made was not quiet nor was it transcendent.
“Shh.” He pulled his fingers from Cass’s dripping hole and only gave him a second of warning. “Bite something.”
Cass grabbed a fistful of his own robes and bit down on them.
“Good boy.” Riot licked a flat stripe from behind his balls to his cock and Cass’s spine arched hard enough to knock the soap dish off the counter.
His tongue pressed against the opening—tight, fluttering, then slowly, slowly yielding as Cass’s thighs locked around his head and he keened through the gag.
More. Give me more of that sound.
“Riot—Ri— mmph —”
The gag was slipping. Cass was biting down, but the sounds were coming through anyway—half-words, broken syllables, the noise of someone being taken apart at the seams and trying to keep it contained in a house with walls made of spiritual optimism and approximately no soundproofing.
Riot wrapped his hand around Cass’s cock and began a few slow strokes, his tongue still working.
Cass’s whole body went rigid, suspended, vibrating, his thighs shaking on either side of Riot’s face—and then he came.
Hard. Sudden. His hips jerking, spilling over Riot’s fist, his teeth clamping down on the robe hard enough that Riot was sure he heard some threads pop.
The clench around his tongue was rhythmic and devastating and he kept working Cass through it.
Slower. Gentler. Until Cass grabbed Riot’s hair and yanked.
“Sensitive,” was the only thing Cass managed as he spit out his own robe, soaked in saliva.
Riot lowered his legs back to the ground and stood to turn Cass around and press him against the sink.
Cass still had that glazed over look on his face, bent forward, the robe hanging off one arm, trapped by his sling and his undershirt rucked to his armpits. Cass’s eyes widened, looking at himself, then to Riot in the mirror, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Watch,” Riot whispered in his ear, pressing against Cass as he worked his own pants down and kicked them to the side. “Open your eyes. I want you to see how beautiful you are.”
Cass shook his head, his hand gripping the edge of the sink as Riot lined himself up, groaning as he pressed against the slick heat of Cass’s body.
You’re going to be calm and gentle and nice. Calm. Gentle. Nice.
He watched Cass’s eyes fly open as he pressed forward, just a bit, and Riot savored the way Cass’s body resisted at first, the tight ring fluttering in protest before parting around him. He was still impossibly tight, even after the cellar, but Riot pushed forward anyway.
“Breathe.” Riot’s forehead dropped against the back of Cass’s neck. “You’re doing so good for me, princess. So fucking good. Push back against me, princess. You can handle more.”
“It’s—it’s—so much,” Cass gasped, drool spilling from his lips into the sink like he had forgotten how to swallow. “I don’t know if—”
Calm. Nice. Gentle. Calm. Nice. Gentle.
“You can.” Riot kissed his neck, sucking gently at the salty skin as he thrusted forward a fraction more. “That’s it, princess. You can take it.”
Cass’s hips twitched back tentatively and he gasped again, biting down on his lower lip.
Fuck it.
Riot clamped his hand over Cass’s mouth, muffling a cry, and drove in fully.
He started slow but built fast—long, deep strokes dragging through that slick blaze, each one pulling fractured sounds from Cass that vibrated through Riot’s palm.
He gripped Cass’s hip, yanking him back to meet every thrust, the slap of skin on skin echoing like thunder in his ears.
“Look at yourself,” Riot panted, moving his hand to Cass’s jaw, forcing his head up. “See how you take me? How fucking good you look? Fuck, you’re perfect, princess, even when you’re squirming like it’s too much.”
Cass’s eyes in the mirror were liquid fire, his flush deepening with every rock. “Riot—it is too…oh heavens…I look—” He pursed his lips and moaned behind them, his eyelids fluttering.
The gold in Riot’s vision flared brighter, his control fraying as Cass’s bitten-off moans melted his thoughts into primal goo. Cass pushed back harder, meeting him, and Riot’s world narrowed to the vise-tight heat, the wet sounds, the scent of sex and sweat.
“That’s it.” Riot seized both hips, yanking harder. “You’re doing so good, Cass. I could fuck you all day like this.”
“Oh, mmph, I think it’s—fuck—it’s too much, Riot—”
“You can.” Riot growled in his ear, nipping at his earlobe as he thrust deeper. “You will. Give me one more, princess—show me how bad you want it. Cum for me again.”
He hooked his arms under Cass’s thighs and lifted him off the ground entirely.
Cass yelped, his feet kicking for a moment before planting against the edge of the sink.
It opened him up completely—suspended, braced, body arched in the mirror like an offering.
Cass squeezed his eyes shut as Riot continued to fuck up into him, his face a mess of tear-streaked embarrassment and fierce want, his hard cock bouncing with each thrust.
“Look,” Riot ordered, pounding in harder, transfixed on the sight of himself moving in and out of Cass. “Open your eyes and look—that’s you, princess, taking me so fucking good. So—” Thrust. “—fucking—” Thrust. “—beautiful.”
Cass’s eyes snapped open with a guttural moan tearing free that reverberated in Riot’s chest. He grabbed a fistful of Riot’s hair, yanking hard enough to sting, and let Riot maneuver him like a ragdoll, utterly surrendered.
His toes curled against the sink’s edge, heels digging in for leverage as he pushed back.
“Don’t stop, please, please, please—mmph—don’t stop! It’s close—”
“That’s right, princess.” Riot slowed for a breath, grinding deep in a torturous circle that made Cass let out a desperate whine.
His head fell back against Riot’s shoulder, his breath hitching in ragged bursts as his legs began shaking violently. Riot pressed fevered kisses along the column of his throat, tasting the salt of his skin mingled with the heady scent of their mingled arousal.
“Oh heavens—yes, yes, fuck!” Cass’s body seized, clenching like a vice in rhythmic waves that threatened to push Riot over the edge.
Cass’s release crashed through him, blurring the lines between them until Riot felt every pulse as his own—electric aftershocks ripping from Cass’s core straight into his, making his vision haze with gold and his thrusts falter.
He pulled out.
The loss was pure torment. “Can’t,” he gasped, voice cracking. “Inside you. Matthias—he’ll smell—I’ll just…”
Riot lowered him gently, but Cass’s legs buckled like they were made of rubber. He dropped to the cold tile, gazing up with his chest heaving in the afterglow.
“Let me,” Cass rasped, and engulfed Riot’s cock in his mouth without hesitation.
No tentative licks this time, just fervent, sloppy devotion, his tongue swirling eagerly around the tip before taking him deeper.
Riot knew he should pull away, be gentle, but the wet heat was too much.
He threaded fingers through Cass’s braids, gripping the back of his head with both hands, and thrust in with feral snaps, each one sending jolts of pleasure spiking through his core.
Cass choked, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, but he clutched Riot’s thigh, yanking him deeper into that convulsing throat, his other hand—despite the sling—bracing against Riot’s hip for balance.
“So good,” Riot growled, lost in the obscene symphony of gags and slurps that filled the room. “Suck me like you mean it, princess—choke on it, swallow me down. Fuck, your mouth—”
Cass gagged harder, pulling off to gasp once, his lips glistening with saliva and slick, eyes locked on Riot’s with a mix of defiance and adoration.
Then he dove back in, hollowing his cheeks and sucking with renewed vigor, his throat convulsing as Riot face-fucked him with abandon, the wet sounds growing louder, more desperate.
“Cass—I’m gonna—” Riot tried to withdraw, muscles tensing, but Cass held firm, nails digging into his skin as if to say mine.
It hit Riot like a demolition, from the ground up, the foundations giving first, then the walls, then the roof. The gold went supernova behind his eyelids and Cass held on and swallowed what he could and what he couldn’t…
Landed on his face. His cheek. A streak across the bridge of his nose and into the edge of his braids.
Cass blinked a few times, still catching his breath, as he touched the wetness on his cheek with his fingertips and looked at it with the expression of a person who had just encountered something they’d seen before but never in this particular location.
Fuck, the sight alone made Riot’s knees weak. He hit the ground in front of Cass, shaking as his mind tried to assemble itself.
Cass knelt between his legs, still touching the mess on his cheek with perplexed fingers. “Oh,” he said, voice hoarse. “What do I... do with this? Just wash it off, like before?”
Riot stared, the sight unspooling his tension. He laughed. “Come here, princess. Come here—”
Cass crawled into his lap. Riot wiped his face gently with his discarded tunic.
“Was that okay?” Cass asked. “The—with my mouth? I don’t know if I did it right.”
“You did it exactly right.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I felt you try to pull away and I didn’t let you and then things got—” He gestured at his own face. “Messy.”
“Cass.” Riot kissed his forehead. His cheek. The tip of his nose. “You were perfect.”
“You say that about everything I do.”
“I am so in love with you that it’s probably a medical condition, just take the compliment princess.”
Cass smiled. The real, full smile with a crinkle at the corners of his eyes, his whole face reorganizing itself around the act of being happy.
He had cum in his braids and tear tracks on his cheeks and he was sitting in a Berserker’s lap on a bathroom floor wearing half a robe and he looked like the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to a world that didn’t deserve him.
“I love you,” Cass said. His hand came up traced the skin under Riot’s left eye.
“I love you too, princess”