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Crow’s breath hisses out in a wince when Shaxx’s thumb digs into a bruise onto his thigh.
Shaxx has found no shortage of bruises (or of winces) in the time it’s taken to strip Crow of his armor. Saladin’s marks are pressed into Crow’s skin with a greed that Shaxx can only respect, from the bands of restraints around his wrists, to the crush of lips along the curve of his throat, to the imprint of teeth across his inner thighs.
Each one he uncovers is fresh kindling for the fire, stoking a heady mix of jealousy and pride, but he knows he’s taking too long to enjoy the sights when Crow props himself up on his elbows with an innocent little smile. “I can always come back another day if you’re too tired?”
It’s almost a pantomime at this point. For all that he and Saladin both enjoy their posturing, Crow is the indefatigable engine behind this little arrangement, but Shaxx is more than happy to play along with the charade when he gives a low growl in response.
Crow’s smile widens. “Or not.”
“Turn around,” Shaxx orders, working his gloves and greaves off. “Let me look you.”
Crow complies, pushing up from where he’s sitting on Shaxx’s desk to bend over it instead, hands flat against the wood. In an ideal world, Shaxx would take Crow home for the night to work him over thoroughly in the privacy of his bedroom, but with the late-afternoon sun still streaming in through the window, his office will have to suffice.
Crow’s back is relatively unscathed, save for the print of bruises on his hips, and Shaxx palms the curve of his ass with a hum. “Looks like Saladin is losing his touch.”
Crow inhales sharply when Shaxx swats his ass. The bare slap of skin against skin is loud in the empty room, and Shaxx adjusts the front of his pants as he lands a couple more hits.
“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” Crow teases, but with his hand on the base of his spine, Shaxx feels the happy shiver that runs through him.
It’s been centuries since Shaxx and Saladin fought, even just as sparring partners, neither of them trusting themselves to keep old resentments in check. However, over the past weeks, Crow has become an eager battlefield, conquered by both Shaxx and Saladin in turn, and as he nudges Crow’s legs apart, Shaxx has no desire to see this war end any time soon.
His desk is well-stocked — situations like this one arise surprisingly often — and Crow pushes up into the touch when Shaxx runs two lube-slick fingers down between his cheeks. They skirt over his hole, teasing but not pushing inside, but when he rubs along his perineum, the contact pries a whimper from Crow anyway.
Shaxx’s gaze lingers on the thick marks around Crow’s wrists. “Restraints again?”
Crow glances back over his shoulder with a smile. “They do call him Iron Lord for a reason…”
Shaxx huffs. “I always thought he was too fond of his toys.”
He and Saladin have plenty in common, not least their fondness for rough sex with one particular hunter, but where Saladin has a tendency to fall back on equipment for assistance, Shaxx prefers a more hands-on approach.
From the enthusiasm with which he goes back and forth between them, he’s confident that Crow is equally happy with both tactics.
Crow shrugs. “Apparently I squirm too much. He says you’re letting me develop bad habits.”
“Is that so?” Shaxx’s free hand slides up Crow’s thigh before digging his fingers in hard enough to make him moan. “Tell him that you’re the picture of obedience when you’re with me.”
Crow laughs, even as he pushes down against the steady stroke of Shaxx’s fingers. “Purposefully antagonise him on your behalf, got it.”
At least fifty percent of this arrangement is purposeful antagonising. Saladin is just as brash about it as Shaxx is, leaving bitemarks down Crow’s thighs as a rebuke to Shaxx’s preference to stay helmeted, or scrawling a message on Crow’s back for Shaxx to uncover, and as Shaxx coaxes Crow to full hardness, he can’t resist asking, “Did he let you come?”
He pushes a finger inside him before Crow can answer. He can’t tell if Crow is actually loose still or if he’s just imagining it but he isn’t patient when he slips a second finger in too, crooking them both against his prostate.
Crow groans, leaving smudges of sweat on the desk as he adjusts his grip, and his knees lock when Shaxx twists his fingers inside him. “Fuck…”
Shaxx smacks his ass again, hard. “That was a question, rookie.”
“Yes,” Crow pants, dropping to his elbows against the desk. “He made me work for it but he let me come, eventually.”
“Then I suppose you’ll appreciate my generosity,” Shaxx says with a smile. His fingers stay buried knuckle-deep, focused more on ruthless stimulation rather than working him open, and Shaxx pinches idly at the sensitive skin of his inner thighs just to feel Crow clench around him. “Come whenever you like.”
From the way Crow looks back at him, he’s waiting for the catch but Shaxx doesn’t ease up any. Crow pushes forward a fraction, cock rubbing against the desk as he chases stimulation, but it doesn’t seem to take him long to realise the pressure of Shaxx’s fingers is all he needs.
“Already?” Crow asks. While it’s clearly intended as a challenge, he sounds almost disappointed as he tightens around him. “Fuck— Maybe Saladin was right. Maybe you are going too easy on me…”
Shaxx chuckles. “Let’s see if you feel that way once I’ve finished.”
He swats his ass again, watching how the white stardust beneath Crow’s skin seems to respond to the contact. Crow’s breathing is shallow enough that Shaxx knows he’s close, and he works his fingers over his prostate to drag him to completion as efficiently as possible.
Crow drops his head when he comes, hips grinding against the barest friction of the desk. Even without seeing his face, Shaxx knows he’s blushing and when he rests a hand on the back of Crow’s neck to press him down over the desk, he can feel the heat of shame under his palm.
“I guess I ‘appreciate your generosity’,” Crow mumbles, and Shaxx swears he can hear him pouting. “You in a rush today or something?”
Come is splattered on the floor beneath him. While another time Shaxx might have had him lick it up, he has an alternate agenda today. He slips his fingers out, feeling Crow shudder at the withdrawal, and wipes the lingering lube off on Crow’s thigh as he tightens his grip on the back of his neck.
Crow tests the hold with what Shaxx imagines he considers subtlety, but he grins when Crow realises he’s pinned in place, chest flat against the desk.
“No rush,” Shaxx corrects him. “But none of Saladin’s weak bartering either.” His hand coasts down over Crow’s ass before coming down hard, landing a sharp patter of blows across both cheeks. “Release isn’t something for you to work for or to earn. Either I choose to allow it or I don’t.”
He spanks him again, putting the full force of his arm behind it. Crow cries out, pulling harder against Shaxx’s hold, but Shaxx just lets him settle before he continues.
“Fuck,” Crow gasps, squirming under the swats. “Fuck, please…”
Shaxx smiles. “You understand why I’m doing this?”
“Because I said you were in a rush?” Crow ventures, but gets another flurry of swats for his effort.
He whines, ass already darkening from the blows as he tries his best to look up at Shaxx, but Shaxx just strokes his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck with a grin. “No.”
Crow moans at the next hit, then louder when Shaxx squeezes his sore ass. The force hasn’t been quite enough to leave marks, not yet, but it’s getting close.
“It’s because I choose to,” Shaxx tells him. He presses his thumb in against Crow’s hole but swings his hand down in another strike when Crow pushes back in hopes of getting fucked. “This is not punishment, or a price to be paid. I just wish to do it, and so I shall.”
Crow struggles again, more for effect than in an actual attempt at freedom. “So I get no say in this?”
“None,” Shaxx tells him, and brings his hand down again.
It’s a lie, of course. Like every other part of this, Crow could end it with a word, but until then Shaxx is free to do with him as he pleases.
(And the little noises Crow makes as Shaxx paints bruises over his ass are deeply, deeply pleasing.)
Crow is panting by the time the blows stop, cheek flat against the desk and face flushed. His ass is closer to purple than blue now, his body bearing the marks of Shaxx’s palm like a cattle brand, and his knees almost buckle when Shaxx gropes the heated skin. “Shaxx…”
Shaxx releases his grip on Crow’s neck but is glad to see he doesn’t move from where he’s slumped against the desk. Saladin’s marks of shackles and teeth pale in comparison to Shaxx’s efforts and he swats him again just to hear Crow whimper while he works his cock free from his pants with his other hand.
“Shaxx what?” he prompts, teasing. “You know my rules about asking for what you want.”
It’s punctuated by a slap of his cock against Crow’s well-spanked ass, and Crow groans, glancing back as much as the position allows. “I thought we were only doing what you wanted.”
“Oh, we are,” Shaxx says cheerfully. “But you can always ask.”
Crow’s lips curve in an exhausted smile. “Worst you’ll do is say no?”
“Worst?”
It’s accompanied by another swat to his ass and Crow sucks in a breath. “Okay, poor phrasing,” he admits, but shivers when Shaxx’s lube-slicked cock slides between the cleft of his ass. “I just— This feels backward.”
Shaxx pauses. He’s confident that Crow would make it known if he crossed a line but even the kernel of doubt is enough to make him check. “It feels bad?”
“No,” Crow says quickly, and even bent over like this, Shaxx seems some of the languid confidence from earlier seep back into his posture. “No, it’s good. I’m just used to doing this the other way around.”
The doubt evaporates and Shaxx guides the head of his cock to press against Crow’s hole as he says, “Don’t tell me you’ve been the one bending Saladin over his desk?”
Crow laughs. “Maybe next week.” He barely stifles a whine as Shaxx pushes inside, but he answers anyway, “Normally I’m only allowed to come after I’ve been spanked and fucked, not before.”
His hands curl into fists as Shaxx pushes the rest of the way inside, and Shaxx holds Crow’s hips to anchor him in place as he adjusts. His breath fogs the inside of his helmet for a moment, his body brimming with heated excitement, and he composes himself before reaching around to tug on Crow’s half-hard dick.
“Saladin is hardly burdened with creativity,” Shaxx says. “He always was set in his ways.”
“His ways have been effective,” Crow points out as Shaxx begins with shallow thrusts. “If it works…”
Shaxx smirks. “A lot of things work. Just because you’ve mastered one method doesn’t mean you should rest on your laurels.”
Crow arches as Shaxx fucks in faster and Shaxx palms his aching ass just to feel him clench tight around his dick.
“A lesson then,” Shaxx says, shifting his hands to Crow’s hips, “and an example. I admit, I enjoy the more traditional way too. Bending you over my lap, spanking you until you’re a needy, squirming mess, and then fucking you until you beg me to let you come.”
He exhales, feeling the pressure build at the thought alone (and the memory of just how well Crow can beg), but he forces himself back under control.
“But this way offers its advantages too,” he continues. “True, it lets you see just how quickly and easily I can make you come, but then it takes away some of the distractions. When I’m tanning your hide, you’re not just focusing on getting off, because you’ve already got there. Instead, you get to think about the pain, about the marks you’ll be leaving here with, about how much I’m going to make you take, just because I want you to.”
He runs his hand down over the curve of Crow’s ass, and smiles when he feels him tense in expectation of further blows. “It’s the same now. I’m not fucking you to make you come, rookie. I’m fucking you because I want to, because I’m enjoying it.” He bottoms out, sliding deep enough to make Crow squirm, and he grins at the sight of him pushing back onto it. “It feels different, doesn’t it?”
Crow nods, forehead resting against the desk as he spreads his legs wider in invitation, and Shaxx flicks a growing bruise on the back of his thigh. “Use your words, Guardian.”
“Yes,” Crow gasps. “It feels different.”
His voice is more ragged than Shaxx expects and he grins at the evidence of his success. “How?”
“How?”
“How is it different?” Shaxx says. “Come on now, I know that mouth of yours is good for something other than being filled up.”
Crow laughs, short and exhausted, and grinds back onto Shaxx’s dick. “It feels good.” Shaxx squeezes his thigh in warning and Crow winces. “Okay, fine, it always feels good but this is—“ His breath hitches when Shaxx cants his hips forward. “It feels like being used.”
Shaxx smiles behind his helmet. While he doesn’t share Saladin’s taste in (or, if he’s honest, talent for) humiliation, he’s done this with Crow enough times to understand how much he enjoys this type of objectification.
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Y-Yes, fuck—” From the way he buries his face against the desk, Shaxx knows he’s blushing but he doesn’t stop the slow roll of his hips back onto Shaxx’s cock as he confesses, “I like knowing you’re getting off on it. I like being put to use, even if I’m just…”
“A hole to fuck?”
Crow groans at the crude summation and Shaxx chuckles. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” Crow grits out. If his enjoyment wasn’t clear enough from every other part of him, his cock is hard between his legs when Shaxx reaches around again. “At least I’m useful, I guess.”
Shaxx hums in agreement. “Yes, you’re a very good hole.”
Crow dissolves into embarrassed laughter, hiding his face in his folded arms, and Shaxx regards him fondly as he holds his cheeks apart to watch his cock slide in and out of Crow’s body. Crow tenses at the scrutiny but does nothing to stop it, and Shaxx watches the dark blush spread down over his shoulders as he says, “I don’t think I need to tell you what to report to Saladin, do I?”
His cock twitches at the thought of it, of Crow telling Saladin just how Shaxx used him and of Saladin’s predictable outrage at being temporarily bested, but his efforts to keep himself from coming aren’t helped by Crow’s breathless little response, “No, sir.”
He picks up the pace. For all his talk about Crow’s pleasure not being a concern, it’s satisfying to watch him rock back to meet his thrusts, already hard again despite coming so recently, but Shaxx allows him no time to get comfortable as he fucks in hard and deep.
Crow writhes beneath him, bare and bruised, and as his release bears down upon him, Shaxx grips Crow’s hips hard enough to overwrite the marks left by Saladin’s hands with those of his own.
Victory and arousal merge into the same hot rush when he comes. He sinks deep inside him, hips snapping forward with unrestrained force, but Crow takes the thrusts just as gladly as he takes Shaxx’s spend when he arches up into the touch. Crow’s ass is warm beneath Shaxx’s hands, bruised enough that he won’t be able to sit for days without feeling it, and as Shaxx fills him up, he exhales in a satisfied grunt at the thought of marking him in this way too.
He wonders if Crow will still be dripping with his come when he goes to visit Saladin again.
Shaxx’s chest is heaving when the waves of pleasure finally ebb, and he plants his hands either side of Crow’s body as he catches his breath. Basking in his release, it takes him a moment to realise exactly what Crow’s insistent squirming means but it hits him when Crow lets out a familiar cry.
Crow rolls his hips, fucking himself desperately on Shaxx’s cock, and Shaxx shudders when Crow tightens helplessly around him, as though trying to milk out every last drop. Already spent from being fucked open on Shaxx’s fingers, Crow has little option but to come dry, and a muffled sob escapes him when he realises his body has no more to give.
By the time Shaxx withdraws, Crow is panting against the desk, condensation fogging on the dark wood. Shaxx holds him open a moment longer, watching his own come start to drip from Crow’s body, but eventually steps back with a slap to his ass that makes Crow jerk forward.
“Ow,” Crow says without heat, but doesn’t move from where he’s slumped over Shaxx’s desk.
He’s a beautiful sight, the spoils of Shaxx’s conquest laid out like an offering, and Shaxx drops back to his chair to indulge in the view. “You know, I’d be happy to tie you down if you want to spend the whole day like that.”
Crow laughs. “Tempting,” he says, audibly exhausted, but he hauls himself back up on unsteady legs before Shaxx can follow through on the threat.
From the way Crow bites his lip, Shaxx knows he can feel the spend trickling out of him, and he reaches out to squeeze Crow’s thigh in reassurance, this time avoiding the bruises. “Still think I went too easy on you?”
“No,” Crow admits, and winces when his ass brushes against the desk. “Fuck, you hit hard.”
“Harder than Lord Saladin?”
Crow rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother to conceal his smile. “Yes. Although I look forward to him trying to correct that.”
The thrill of competition hums through Shaxx’s blood as he tucks himself back in his pants to watch Crow locate his armor. While it’s disappointing to see the marks hidden away again beneath Crow’s clothes, he knows he’ll have an enjoyable night picturing Saladin’s reaction to discovering them.
“You did well,” Shaxx says, tossing Crow a bottle of water before he can leave. “I hope to see you again before too long.”
From the smile on Crow’s lips, the comment was less subtle than Shaxx hoped but he decides against trying to cover it with something more aloof. He’s certain Crow already knows how much he enjoys this arrangement but after all that posturing, Shaxx figures he can allow himself a little sincerity.
However, sincerity and provocation aren’t mutually exclusively, and as Crow heads for the door, Shaxx can’t resist adding, “Send Lord Saladin my regards, will you? It was good of him to grant me such an easy victory.”