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Your first thought when what feels like molten lava starts to snake through your veins is: "Oh no." The second is, "I'm going to personally pelt Feo Ul with sharp rocks." A shudder runs down your spine and you are made acutely aware of one of your most base needs; shoved aside in favour of saving worlds and kicking ass, now blown to the forefront of your mind. Sex. You couldn't ignore it if you tried. If you even wanted to ignore it. It would be nice… you think before you firmly shake your head to banish the idea and muscle memory kicks in, taking you home, somewhere safe. Your body is reduced to aether and the disappointed chatter of the pixies you hear right before you vanish is enough to let you know you dodged a bullet.
Blessedly the Crystarium is mostly empty when you emerge by the aetheryte and you send a quick prayer of thanks to the Twelve - this was the least they could do for you after everything they've put you through. After some quick deliberation - do I want to tell Urianger I have ingested fairy sex food and have him poke and prod me curiously? Probably not! Instead you shuffle over to the Pendants, nodding at the clerk with a smile so strained he almost looks concerned. Thankfully being the Warrior of Darkness carries enough weight that he doesn't question you, most likely (hopefully) dismissing it as heroic shenanigans of some sort.
A bell or two has passed when you fling the doors to your suite open, frustration written plain in every line of your body. It didn't go away. It didn't go away. If anything trying to take care of the problem on your own has made the strange heat feel worse, coiled tight in your belly. Several different thoughts compete for attention - do I go to Urianger anyway? Perhaps the clerk alerted someone that I'm not well… Should I talk to the Exarch about this? The last one makes you shudder, images coming unbidden of the hooded Exarch carefully examining you, asking about your condition in his smooth voice...
Goddamnit. Not helping.
With considerable effort you force yourself to focus, at last landing on Thancred. The gunbreaker had experience from Il Mheg and would likely know how to help you, not to mention the Thancred you knew was not modest and hopefully would not shy away from the subject. He might laugh at you but while the thought irks you, you also know he is your best option right now. You run a hand through your ruined hair, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you stomp down to the lobby only to deflate instantly when you see the same clerk sitting there, eyeing you with open curiosity.
"W-what can I do for you miss?" The squeaky note in his voice make your hackles rise but you square your shoulders, persisting through what's beginning to feel like the most humiliating day of your life. I'm going to kill every single one of the pixies, diplomatic disaster be damned.
"Would you please have someone fetch Thancred, advice him it's urgent." The missing 'master' in front of Thancreds name makes the clerks eyebrows shoot up and you swear inwardly, knowing this will be the talk of the Crystarium in a heartbeat.
"Right away miss," he replies, almost gleefully, and you nod as seriously and authoritatively as you can, turning on your heel and making a tactical retreat for your rooms. You do not run.
It feels like an age passes before there's a quiet knock on the door. You don't even bother getting up from where you're half sitting, half laying, forehead pressed flat against the cool table. Thancred slips inside unprompted like you knew he would and you tense, waiting for the inevitable quip about your state. You've tossed on a loose blouse and worn cotton skirt, hair tousled from your constant attempts to pull it out of your face. The air in the room is stale and fleetingly you wonder if it smells like sex, shakily exhaling as you find the thought more exciting than embarrassing, pressing your legs together in a feeble attempt to pull yourself together. The weight of his gaze on you makes your skin prickle and you release a heavy sigh.
The warrior of light and darkness, defeated by pixie magic. What a story that would be, you think wryly.
"My friend," Thancred says carefully and the tone makes something clutch in your breast because it betrays the care he so rarely verbalises. Through thick and thin, Thancred has been a steadfast presence in all your trials. "What's the matter?" There's no quip and when you turn your head to look at your friend he looks almost worried, brows pinched as he surveys the room, taking in the scattered knick-knacks and piles of clothing. If it were anyone else you would have summoned the energy to tidy up a bit but Thancred knows you as well you know him. There has always been a quiet understanding between the two of you, both of you fighting for those you hold, and held, dear - preferring action over talking. The rogue turned gunbreaker has always been at your heels like a shadow, guarding your back as you lead the charge.
"Nothing life threatening. I think." You mumble and Thancred immediately relaxes, making guilt shoot through you. Of course he would worry, what with the whole… Situation in the First.
"Then pray tell why you needed me here so urgently," he smirks, recovering easily, and you try to muster up a scowl, wondering exactly what the clerk told him. No doubt your summons had taken a life of its own in the short time it took them to find Thancred, probably going through several iterations and embellishments from the clerk. It takes tremendous effort to leave the cool table but you push yourself to standing, another wave of heat hitting you the moment you do. Thancreds eyes on you make you want to squirm, original goal of having him help you in a strictly platonic and scientific way lost somewhere in the fog as you imagine him sating the need burning in your body.
"I was doing tasks in Il Mheg -"
"You were doing tasks in Il Mheg," Thancred repeats incredoulosly and you shoot him a murderous glare to which he just holds up his hands. "Sorry, sorry. I'll let you get to it and explain later why that was an incredibly stupid idea." That crooked smirk of his was really infuriating. One of his worst qualities. Was it only you, or was the room heating up? Unconsciouly you wet your lips, oblivious to the way Thancreds eyes narrow as you do. The healthy glow of Thancreds tan skin suggested he'd spent the day in the sun and while he kept his regular coat today he traded the rest of his armor for a simple black shirt and a pair of complicated pants. The outfit flattered him and you huff in frustration. It was tough enough fighting the constant urge to jump on every half-attractive person you saw on the way over from the aetheryte earlier, you really didn't need Thancred making this harder than it needed to be. Of course it wouldn't be him if he didn't, but a warrior could wish.
Then again, almost everything was flattering on him. Thancred clears his throat pointedly and you startle, quietly hoping the lapse in your concentration wasn't as long as it felt to you. Turning back to the topic at hand feels like walking through slime, the world hazy at the edges. The temporary relief brought by your own hand seems to be waning and you rescind the earlier prayer you sent the Twelve because surely this must be them making your life difficult for the fun of it.
"I was doing tasks in Il Mheg and you know how the pixies are, I was invited to share a meal and Feo Ul specifically said it wouldn't harm me…" you trail off, eyes roving over Thancreds body, the frayed threads of your self-control nearly snapping again. He looked really nice. Years in the First has given him some bulk and a vivid image of what his arms would feel like around you nearly makes your mouth water. Would he be hard and unyielding, or slow and gentle? How would it feel to fall in bed with one of your best friends, one who knew you inside and out? You can't say you've never considered it before, idle musings when you can catch a moment to yourself and shove a hand down your smalls for quick relief. Adventuring rarely gave you the time to pursue any fancies you might have even should you want to, so fantasies have had to suffice for years. Thancred was someone you found yourself returning to time and again, quietly and shamefully gasping into your pillow as you wondered if your best friends prowess in bed truly was as magnificent as he bragged.
Screw it, a traiturous part of you says. There's no shame in asking.
"A meal." The amused disbelief in Thancreds voice breaks you out of your daydreaming again; the tone is something you would usually scoff at but now you just give the gunbreaker a pleading look, resisting the urge to play with the hem of your skirt in a sudden fit of nervous energy.
This had never been your strong suit; being vulnerable, asking for things. Still there is a dizzying sweetness to edging closer to what you actually want from him, anticipation making your breath come shorter until you're almost panting, shifting your weight to your left hip and pulling your shoulders back. A dangerous note of delight dances through you as Thancred glance at your chest, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows.
"I can't go to Urianger with this. You've been there, don't you know how to undo it?" Your voice comes out breathy, inviting.
"I don't even know what 'it' you're referring to is." Thancred crosses his arms, raising a brow at you. It's terrible. Awful. You want to kiss him stupid. "You're acting awfully strange though. If you won't tell me what's wrong perhaps I should call for the chirurgeons?"
"Don't make me say it," you try and Thancred raises the eyebrow higher. "I think it's an aphrodisiac? I feel…" Flushed. Horny. Like I want you to grab me and take me right now. "…Strange."
"Have you tried to fix it on your own?" Thancred asks slowly and you duck your head, awash with shame because of course he would ask that. He probably wants to let you down easy, the fog in your mind clearing up enough to leave you horrified at how presumptuous you had been with your dear friend. You had focused more on the relief he would bring and less on the effect it would have on your friendship, Twelve forfend if he felt forced -
"Hey! Hey, I'm not saying I'm opposed to helping. I'm rather flattered, you could probably have your pick of any one in the Crystarium." You chance a quick glance at him and thankfully he doesn't seem put off, his eyes trained on you. When you muster up the courage to make proper eye contact Thancred smiles easily - a gorgeous thing that just about makes you melt onto the floor - rolling his shoulders and shrugging off his heavy coat. It hits the floor with a rustle of fabric and your mouth is suddenly very, very dry. "I am perfectly fine with whatever it is you're proposing."
"I have tried on my own," you say quietly, testing the waters. "It gets worse."
"Uh-huh." Thancred keeps the tone light, shoving his coat aside with his foot. "So what are you proposing? Tea? Talking it out?"
"What do you think I'm proposing?" Please put your hands on me.
"Like I said, I have no idea." Thancred has to know exactly what he's doing to you, the warmth in your cheeks giving away just how heavy your blush must be, the way you keep shifting your weight from foot to foot to alleviate some of the pressing need. He knows, and he's playing with you.
"Shut up and touch me you insufferable ass," you snap and Thancred laughs, low and rich and oh, how you want. There's no telling what part is pixie magic and what part is your terrible, deceitful heart that has been nursing this crush since you first set foot in the Waking Sands years ago and saw Thancred Waters leaning against the wall, posture relaxed but gaze sharp and appraising.
Heat pools low in your belly and when Thancred steps closer it takes tremendous effort to stop yourself from leaning into him, swaying on your feet in an effort to retain what little dignity you have left.
"Let me make it clearer. You want me to physically help you burn off this aphrodisiac? As in me bedding you?" You nod even if his phrasing makes you want to cringe, the humour in his voice telling you he knows exactly how stilted the question is. Then again, that's why you trust him unconditionally because Thancred would never abuse that trust and your heart swells when he reaches out cautiously; you recognise the gesture as a chance for you to call it quits before you go any further.
You do not want him to quit though, rather the opposite. You're pracically vibrating with the need for him to actually get started.
When he finally, finally touches you the little self control you have been holding on to vanishes without a trace. A high keen leaves you and you surge forward, bumping your noses together in your eagerness to get your lips on him. Thancred hums in amusement and places his hands on your hips, digits digging into the pliable flesh there as he claims your mouth with practised ease. It doesn't take long for the clumsiness of a first kiss to wear off and you wonder why you never did this before. This was wonderful, fantastic, the two of you fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. In the back of your mind you're a little bit annoyed that all his strutting and posturing through the years had merit - he is a great kisser, chapped lips moving against yours in a way that makes your toes curl - but you figure that since it benefits you, you don't mind as much. Thancred keeps perfect, steady pressure on your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the soft hair you find there the way you've always imagined. If the pleased groan leaving him is anything to go by he likes that a lot - you make a mental note of it and part your lips in a clear invitation.
Thancred slips his tongue into your mouth and you're pretty sure you black out for a blink, the fae magic roaring through your veins demanding more, more, more. Now that the floodgates have opened nothing can hold it back and you arc against Thancred, scrambling to get as close as you physically can. He smells like sweat and gunpowder, skin sun-warm under your touch. It's the headiest of perfumes, fanning the flames in your gut and making you moan.
"I get the feeling you're not in the mood for foreplay," Thancred murmurs when he pulls back to breathe and you tighten your grip on his hair in response, drawing another low groan from him.
"Tell me you want this," you gasp. "Tell me before it goes too far because if you don't -"
"Oh believe me," Thancred starts to walk you backwards toward the bed, lips curved in a devilish smirk as he bends and places a wet kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I've wanted this a while."
The words have no time to register in your mind before your legs hit the edge of the mattress and you fall backward on the plush bedding, Thancred following you down with a bruising kiss, bracing himself on both sides of your head and pushing a thigh between your legs. A wonderfully thick thigh, you note dizzily and sink into the covers, pushing at Thancreds black undershirt with a whine. He withdraws just long enough to toss it off with a huffed laugh, immediately diving back in to press his lips along your jaw and down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there, making you yelp.
You don't allow the surprise to last however because while you have seen Thancreds chest during spars and changing of clothes you've never had the chance to explore it like this, and you relish the opportunity, lightly scratching your nails down his collarbone and in between his pectoral muscles, aiming to discover every little spot that makes him feel good. The heat in your blood spurs you on, singing in your veins and it feels so good to just let go, to trust that Thancred will catch you in this as well as he does in everything else. He's got me. Falling in bed together feels as natural as fighting side by side, both of you adjusting for the other wordlessly, effortlessly.
There's a light smattering of silver hair on his chest, trailing its way down into what is possibly the cutest treasure trail you've ever seen, peppered with coarser black hair, winding down a soft belly - probably owing to Ryne's fretting and a life no longer spent constantly on missions and inflitrations. He grumbles from where he is currently attached to a spot just above the swell of your breast, muttering something you can't make out but is obviously self conscious.
You don't care and you tell him as much, idly stroking your fingers along the V of his hips.
For a short while there's nothing but the wet, slick heat of Thancreds mouth and his body boxing you in and you know that your underwear is thoroughly soaked through. It's not enough though, arousal thrumming through you in steady waves, demanding and insistent. Dipping your fingers below the waist of his pants earns you a sharp inhale and when you look at him its to the sight of his pupils blown out and his lips shiny with saliva, the knowledge that you have that effect on him making you dizzy. It makes this real, makes this into something he wants as well and not just a favour for a friend.
"Thancred," you say, trying to urge him on, and when he moves to resume his journey across your upper body it turns into a whine. "Thancred!"
"Impatient," he mutters under his breath and in retaliation you move your hand down, squeezing him through the fabric of his pants. It makes him hiss and buck into your hand, a smug smile making its way to your lips. He's glaring at you but you can tell there's no heat behind it, his breath coming heavy. Stunning, you can't help but think, licking your lips as you watch his chest heave, transfixed by the sight.
"I thought we established no foreplay," you start to fumble with the needlessly complicated buttoning on his trousers - seriously, the things he wear for aethestetics at times - and Thancred bats your hands away, undoing the buttons in the blink of an eye and shoving his pants down, kicking them off with an annoyed grunt.
"It was an assumption on my part," he grumbles and - oh. Oh.
The earlier slow - or what had been slow to your addled mind at least - pace is gone as Thancred runs a hand up your thigh under your skirt and presses his thumb down on your clit through the fabric of your smallclothes, his free hand pushing your legs apart. Your eyes roll back in your head as a heady wave of pleasure washes through you, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. Yes, yes, yes - you don't realise you're saying it outloud until Thancred releases a breathy laugh that makes you laugh as well, burying one hand in his hair and clutching at the sheets with the other. It's exhilirating how easily he reads you, knows you, a sense of free falling.
It's lewd in the best of ways to be spread open before Thancred like this and when he circles his thumb in small, controlled movements it's enough to make you arc your back, body taut like a bowstring as you open your mouth and finally, finally find blessed release.
When you come to again and the stars behind your eyelids have faded somewhat you find Thancred watching you with dark eyes, palming himself.
"Good?" He asks hoarsely and you nod wordlessly, the heat in your gut already building again.
Despite the catalyst of your tryst being unfortunate fae magic you realise in the aftermath of your orgasm that you've wanted this a while - wanted him. It's a sobering realisation that raises the stakes considerably and as if sensing your thoughts Thancred grips your chin and tilts your head up, voice coming raspy and deep.
"Let me take care of you," The Lominsan drawl bleeding through in his voice makes you shiver. Of course you would never admit out loud that you had a thing for his accent but. Well. A warrior has her weaknesses.
"Want you," you manage to say and Thancred chuckles, ridding himself of the rest of his clothes while you take a moment to recover.
"Trust me, darling, you'll have me."
The petname steals your breath and stokes the fire in your body; you shuffle backward on the bed and shove the bedding aside, pulling off your blouse and breastband. When you move to pull off your skirt Thancreds stops you, large calloused hand covering yours. "Leave it on."
You swallow hard. This man will be the death of me.
At least he allows you to remove your ruined underwear and you toss them somewhere over his shoulder, Thancred immediately moving in between your legs and shoving your skirt up around your hips, greedily palming your ass with both his hands. It drives a moan out of you - it's exquisite, head buzzing, you want more, more, more. Far beyond shame at this point you beg out loud until Thancred swears, moving a hand to your soaking cunt and easily slipping two fingers in. Divinity, you think, must feel something like this. The feeling of fullness from his fingers alone make you arch your back and try to spread your legs even further, his name sweet as honey on your lips. He pumps his fingers twice and then withdraws, the loss making you whimper - Thancred swallows it with his mouth as he uses the slick from your cunt to coat himself.
The world is reduced down to the heat of Thancreds body and the wet sounds of your kissing, Thancreds hand on himself - you feel out of control in a way you haven't been for years and you love it, safely letting go like this a benediction to your tired mind. When he enters you in one smooth thrust you can't help but shout and his answering groan is an instant addiction. The stretch burns but it's the best kind - he doesn't give you much time to adjust before he starts thrusting however you don't mind since it's exactly what you need, you move your hands up to his hair and pull, mouth falling open with the sheer intensity of it.
"Fuck, you feel amazing, goddamn wonderful," he breathes against your sweaty skin and you preen under him, wrapping your legs around his hips and squeezing. You want to be good for him, want Thancred to feel the same pleasure you do. You want him to never warm another bed but yours ever again, want to be the best he's ever had. The words keep falling off his lips; he probably doesn't even realise it himself. Beautiful, sweet, wonderful, he laves you in compliments both sweet and dirty as he fucks into you, leaving you reeling and overwhelmed.
Well, that's one question answered, you think almost hysterically, of course Thancred Waters is brilliant at talking dirty.
When you come again the world whites out entirely, your cunt clenching around him. That, combined with your hands in his hair is enough to send him over the edge and he spills inside you with a drawn out moan, pressing his sweaty forehead to yours as he thrusts through it, sending hot puffs of air at your face as he tries to catch his breath.
You've barely come down from your second orgasm when he pulls out and replaces his cock with three fingers, bending his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. It's almost too much - overstimulation making you shudder and wail. He glances up at you, assessing, and you nod your consent as you chase another high. Thancred seems to know exactly how to play your body, what is enough and what is excessive; when he curls his fingers against your g-spot you relax into it, letting the gunbreaker coax a third orgasm out of you. You shake through it, curling in on yourself as a sense of primal satisfaction spreads in your suddenly heavy limbs. A quick double tap to Thancreds shoulder lets him know you're well and thoroughly done, the gesture stolen from your many spars. He groans and flops down next to you, wiping his fingers on the sheets.
"Those were expensive I think," you try to say but it must come out jumbled because Thancred frowns at you, blinking lazily as exhaustation catches up to him. You wave your hand dismissively and he shrugs, pulling you against his chest. It's a little to warm and sweaty for you to be truly comfortable but you allow it, wrinkling your nose as you feel his come start to trickle down your thigh.
Thancred clumsily pats you, yawning "Don'worry'bout it" and you relent with a sigh. It feels like the two of you have never been anything but lovers, easily slipping into a dreamless sleep cuddled up with Thancred that normally would take you hours to get to.
Later on the sun filters through the balcony curtains - the doors had been open to let some air in during your enthusiastic engagement and you just know the gossip will haunt you until the end of the world. Not even solemnly staring them down would squash this one, you fear and you sigh - turning your attention to Thancred who's spread out next to you, staring at the ceiling and humming under his breath. You recognise the tune as one of Lominsas bawdier tavern anthems but decide not to comment on it since it's rather adorable.
"What did you mean earlier, 'I've wanted this for a while?'" Your curiosity wont leave you alone, though, wondering if it was the wrong thing to ask when Thancred stiffens. A beat of silence where you prepare yourself for the worst, admonishing yourself for asking such a loaded question and ruining the moment - then he relaxes with an exhale, rolling over on his side and meeting your gaze. You raise an eyebrow at him, a mirror of him a few hours earlier.
"Have you seen yourself?" The attempt at cockiness is betrayed by an undercurrent of vulnerability and you force yourself to stay still, to give him a chance to collect his thoughts. When you don't take the bait his lips quirk up - you feel like you somehow passed a test. "Is it enough if I say I hope we can do this without the pixies meddling next time?" You sniff, considering. The vulnerability is still there but instead of cocky he now sounds hopeful, running the pads of his fingers up and down your arm.
"Truth be told I'm not used to… Commitment." He grimaces the moment the words leave him and you feel merciful enough not to comment on the poor phrasing.
"I understand," you murmur. "We should try this a couple of times to feel it out then. Thoroughly." Thancred lets out a sharp bark of laughter - it's infectious and you find yourself helplessly sniggering, covering your mouth to supress a snort.
"I guess we should," he grins, pulling you closer and smacking his lips against yours in an exaggerated kiss. "We really should."