Work Text:
Isiah’s lips were soft, softer than Vulpes had expected. He was enormous; a hulking, muscular thing, scarred and tattooed, and he carried no less than two grenade launchers on his person at all times. Vulpes had assumed that his lips would be just as chapped and calloused as his hands, just as crude, just as inelegant. The man was thick and hairy as Zion’s Yao-Guai, he had no right to be so soft against Vulpes’ neck.
The Frumentarius bit his cheek to silence himself as Isiah traced the line of his jaw, lips parted, the barest brush of tongue. His hand tangled in Isiah’s wild hair as Vulpes tipped his head back to allow him easier access. He dragged the other man closer, encouraged him with a stifled gasp when he felt Isiah’s teeth against his skin. “Just like that,” he said. “Harder.”
Isiah indulged him, and one of his massive hands settled in the junction of Vulpes’ neck and shoulder, holding him still while Isiah pressed his mouth against his throat. Isiah traced his Adam’s apple with the pad of his calloused thumb while he kissed a bruise into Vulpes’ pale throat, breaking the capillaries underneath his skin in his urgency.
It was, Vulpes later considered, a childish thing to do. Only rutting teenagers, clumsy in their experience habitually marked one another in such a way. He wouldn’t relish the week spent tugging at his collar and glaring daggers at his snickering subordinates. Childish indeed.
Isiah had him pressed up against the wall of an abandoned building in a Freeside alleyway. The brute was single-minded in his arousal, unable to think of anything but sex. Vulpes preferred to tease his partners, dodge their advances, unman them and leave them on their knees, quivering and begging for his cock. (He had once seen Lucius so undone, kneeling with his cock in hand, cum leaking from his fingers and tears leaking from between his eyes, mouth open and pliant and pleading.) Isiah’s directness was refreshing, but he lacked the deferential streak that Vulpes preferred in his partners.
“Enough,” he said, pushing Isiah away.
The giant was slow to unlatch from Vulpes, but there was genuine concern in his eyes when he leaned away. His voice was thick with arousal, smooth and warm like liquid gold. Vulpes suppressed a shiver of delight.
“You alright, man? I always use ‘lizard’ as a safe word, but—”
Vulpes put his hand over Isiah’s mouth, his palm flat against his chin, fingers pressed vertically against those plush lips. “Be quiet,” he hissed. “On your knees, wretch. You’ll call me Dominus and you’ll not speak unless spoken to.”
Isiah looked at him, perplexed. Very gently, he caught Vulpes’ wrist in his fist, lifting his hand away from his mouth. “Inculta,” he said, huskily. “I’m gonna fuck you raw.”
Vulpes jerked out of his hold and moved to strike him for his impertinence, but Isiah was too quick. He took hold of Vulpes’ shoulder and spun him around, shoving him face-first against the wall. He twisted his arm behind his back, pinning him there. He leaned into Vulpes, holding him in place with his bulk. Vulpes let loose a stream of profanities, writhing in Isiah’s hold, unable to break free. “I’ll have your hands for this,” he growled. He had been drilled in hand-to-hand combat, but his training seemed distant and far removed, useless against the unmovable giant who even now, was pawing at Vulpes’ belt buckle.
“Remember,” Isiah said, his soft mouth centimeters from Vulpes’ ear, “safe word is ‘lizard.’”
With that, Isiah slapped Vulpes’ ass. Incandescent with rage, Vulpes threw his weight backwards against Isiah in a final, futile attempt to dislodge him. Isiah chuckled and pressed another kiss to the back of Vulpes’ neck, brushing the knob of his spine, and Vulpes shivered, despite himself.
He ground his teeth and turned his head, pressing his cheek against the rough brick wall. He fixed Isiah with a withering glare, but the other man ignored him. He worked at Vulpes’ belt, and after another moment’s fumbling, pulled it free with a shit-eating grin. He discarded it carelessly and pressed a kiss (a reverent, wondrously soft kiss) to Vulpes’ lips.
Vulpes stayed still as stone until he felt Isiah’s tongue. Quick as a flash, he caught his lip (his deliciously soft lip) between his teeth and he clamped down until he tasted blood.
Isiah jerked back, pressing a hand to his mouth. Blood seeped from between his fingers, black as ink in the twilight. Vulpes licked his lips in triumph, and the copper tang of Isiah’s blood went straight to his groin. He was enjoying himself, despite his fury, despite the indignity of his position.
The Courier chuckled, his laugh a low rumble like thunder. “Could have just said ‘no kissing,’” he said, and returned his attention to Vulpes’ rump, split lip seemingly forgotten. He ran his fingers down his back, tracing his spine. He was breathing hard, as though in exertion. Craning his neck, Vulpes caught a glimpse of Isiah’s erection, straining against his trousers, seemingly as big as Vulpes’ own forearm. He swallowed, nervous for the first time that evening.
Isiah was gentle as he eased Vulpes’ trousers down, exposing his bare ass. He hadn’t worn undergarments, the Frumentarius seldom did. Vulpes had always found it convenient. Isiah certainly seemed to enjoy it. “You got a nice ass,” he said, approval and admiration thick in his voice. “Could bounce a cap off it.” Humming to himself, Isiah slipped Vulpes’ trousers a little further down the curve of his ass.
Vulpes expected him to tear his trousers away and expose him entirely, but he only slid them down to the junction of rump and leg. Isiah laid his hand against his ass, thumb delving between his buttocks to brush his hole. He tensed, and Isiah stilled immediately. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, “and we won’t do anything you don’t want. Remember, the safe word—”
“Is lizard,” Vulpes snapped, irritated. “Why don’t you just get it over with, you filthy, degenerate animal.”
Isiah bared his teeth in a savage grin, and Vulpes went a little weak in the knees. “If you insist,” he said, and his thumb pressed firmly against his asshole, easily slipping inside of him. Vulpes flinched at the suddenness of the penetration and pressed his face against the wall, bracing himself.
The sensation was not unpleasant, and Isiah stopped before he was in to the first knuckle, allowing Vulpes time to adjust. Just as he’d worked up a sneer, Isiah pressed into him again, going in as deep as his second knuckle, stealing the breath from his lungs.
A gasp slipped from Vulpes’ parted lips, and he berated himself for the womanly noise. Isiah was unconcerned. “Do you like that?”
Vulpes found himself nodding, eager for more.
“Knew you would,” Isiah purred. “Push against me—just like that, good boy—so I can go in deeper.” Despite the strangeness of the situation, Vulpes flushed at the praise, his tongue too thick and heavy in his mouth to work up a response. He turned his head away and pressed his face into the mortar, biting his useless tongue as Isiah started to move inside of him. “Relax,” he said, his voice like smoke, like honey. “Just relax and let it happen. Christ, you Legion boys are pretty.”
He pulled his thumb out, and Vulpes let out a low whine at its absence. Isiah’s grin widened. “Greedy little thing,” he said, obviously pleased with himself. He spit in his hand and slipped his forefinger into Vulpes’ ass. He probed at him internally, and struck something that made Vulpes cry out sharply, precum leaking from his cock.
“That’s it,” he cooed. “Louder. I want everyone to hear you.”
Vulpes did as he was bid, delirious with pleasure as Isiah stroked him internally. He came hard and fast, hitting his plateau seconds before he came, screaming while Isiah finger-fucked his ass, praise falling from his lips (his incredible, wondrous lips). “Beautiful creature, precious thing, come for me--”
He was grateful he had the wall to lean on for support, his knees were too weak to bear his weight. He almost didn’t notice when the Courier took hold of his hips, but then Isiah was inside of him, stretching him to capacity, pushing him beyond his upper limit.
“Lizard,” he croaked.
It was like flipping a switch. Isiah stopped immediately. He pulled out and took a step back, hands raised. “You okay?” he said, nervously. “What’s wrong?”
Vulpes shook his head weakly, then pressed his forehead against the wall. “Too much,” he gasped. “I can’t take you. You’re—” he swallowed “—You’re too big.”
“It’s alright,” Isiah said warmly. He stroked the small of Vulpes’ back, a gesture that should not have been soothing. “Your rules.”
“I want—“ Vulpes cast about desperately, searching for words. “—I want to—to get you off. I want you to come in me, but I can’t take you.” His voice broke into a whine, and he hated himself for it.
“It’s alright,” Isiah repeated. “Here, press your legs together, just like that. I can fuck you like that, not go inside you.” Vulpes did as he was told, leaning heavily against the wall, not caring about the come soaking into his good wool trousers. “Are you ready?”
Vulpes nodded, managed to grunt yes, and Isiah resumed his motions. The feel of Isiah’s spit-slicked cock between his thighs was strange, and it took them a moment to find a satisfactory rhythm, but after two fumbling false starts, Isiah hit his stride. His cock slid along Vulpes’ abused asshole, teasing him without tormenting him, and Vulpes was able to close his eyes, lean into the wall, and relax as Isiah moved against him, still whispering praise. “You’re so good like this,” he said. “So beautiful.”
He came after five blissful minutes, painting Vulpes’ thighs and ass with his seed. He pulled away abruptly and cleaned himself off with the hem of his shirt before he packed his cock away. Vulpes remained against the wall, eyes shut, and the night air was cold against his tender exposed skin, raising gooseflesh.
“How was that?” Isiah asked.
Vulpes’ tongue was still thick and heavy, but after a few moments, he found his voice. “Satisfactory,” he said weakly, and Isiah laughed, voice rich and warm in the fading light.