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There have been a great many sights Urianger has seen in his life that have stolen his breath --through either awe of their beauty or terribleness-- but none of those sights are equal to the flex of muscles under the scarred skin of Thancred’s back. The corded muscles built up over years of hard work shift with his whole body as he moans and rocks down hard enough to steal what little breath Urianger has left. One blade-calloused hand gripping tight to Urianger’s raised knee and the other pushing against the bed to steady himself. Allowing Urianger unobstructed access to the sight of his own cock, dark with desire and oil, sliding in and out of the stretched rim of Thancred as dizzying to see as it is to feel.
Urianger’s world shakes with each move of the hyur’s body atop his own. His natural instinct to move in rhythm stifled under the knowledge that he would only knock his lover off balance. The easy roll of hips dragging sound and breath out of Urianger in equal measure. Thancred moves in waves that transfer to the bed itself making it groan in a counterpoint that makes Urianger well glad it is too early for the rooms next to theirs to be occupied.
Intoxicated as he is with watching he is equally occupied with feeling. The tight warmth of Thancred around him matched as he splays his hands wide against the back moving above him. Fingers tracing the lines and pits of scar tissue marring Thancred’s back from a life of strife. Lighter where healing magics had intervened, deeper where the man had not the proper kind of back up for his dangerous missions. Urianger presses into them unable to stop the slight flicker of healing --instinctive anymore when confronted with any sign of injury on Thancred-- from following as he drags his touch down the wide back before him to hold tight and urge him faster.
A throaty chuckle leaves Thancred but he obeys the wordless request. Driving himself up and down with the single minded intensity he gives to drawing the ire of the enemies they encounter. The hand on the bed disappearing to his front for an act that Urianger needs not see as the man’s pleased sigh speaks volumes. The shifting of his arm is mesmerizing in it’s own way but Urianger doesn’t want to simply watch now.
“If thou were to leaned back,” Urianger manages to push out with a near breathless groan, “I would take care of thine pleasure myself.”
“I’d say you already are,” Thancred says in a voice no less breathless than Urianger’s. “But I’ll not say no to your touch.”
Urianger sucks in a sharp breath as Thancred doesn’t waste a moment in shifting. His back bows in a move that is purely for showing off. Using naught more than the strength of his abdomen to slowly lean back. His knees stay firmly planted where they are in a stretch that would leave many in pain but that he pulls off easily. One thick arm curls under Urianger’s head, the other reaching up to grip the headboard to anchor him.
His upper back presses into Urianger, but the graceful arc of his back leaves more than amble room for them to continue their dance. Their steps are now stilted due to Thancred’s lack of leverage, and Urianger feels pleased that is now up to him to take over. Most importantly, it leaves Urianger room to wrap a hand around his proudly standing cock and stroke it firmly and quickly.
It is not often that Urianger admits he might be wrong, but he freely acknowledges to himself that this sight might be truly more awe inspiring. Body taut to show off every defined edge of muscle, the paler skin of his chest flushed, and the pearly beads leaking from his cock that Urianger swipes his thumb through.
Looking over Thancred’s shoulder he can watch his own hand draw pleased moans out of the man and watch --with a slight turn of the head-- it write itself across Thancred’s finely featured face. The way his mouth drops on a guttural groan when Urianger drags his nails lightly across his chest. Rubbing and pinching the hardened peaks of his nipples as Urianger thrusts up hard as he can manage. The shudder that takes him makes Urianger close his eyes in pleasure, his own peak is fast approaching and he needs his lover to join him.
Thancred helps, shifting until Urianger’s next thrust draws a sharp cry from him. “There,” he hisses and goes absolutely still to not lose the angle, “right there, harder just-”
Urianger does not question the bitten off command. He moves as Thancred asks, as best he can, quickening the pace of his hand even as he burns for release. His control hanging by a thread that’s strained when Thancred tightens around him with each thrust. The room fills with the sound of both of their voices and the lewd meeting of their bodies. Loud enough that Urianger cannot tell whose voice calls out harshest as his control slips and he spills into Thancred’s welcoming heat. It takes will to keep his hand moving over Thancred. Will that Urianger has mastered in many areas alongside this, and he is regaining his breath when Thancred shudders and spills over his hand. Tensing and groaning with each pulse Urianger coaxes out before the man goes utterly limp.
The warm glow of pleasure sated lingers and Urianger lets his hands sweep slow and lazy over Thancred’s lax body. In the sudden silence Urianger can hear his heartbeat slow and their combined breathing even as drowsiness beckons him back to slumber. Thancred eventually moves, his weight crushing for a mere moment before he rolls off with a weary groan. Urianger winces at the twin loud pops as he straightens his legs.
“I might actually be getting too old for that position,” Thancred admits ruefully and stretches one leg straight up into the air. A smaller pop fills the air before he drops it with a sigh. “Give it a year or ten at least.”
“Thou speakith as if the were an old man,” Urianger closes his eyes and fumbles a hand down, letting his palm rest on the hard jut of Thancred’s knee. Well won exhaustion tugs at his consciousness, yet it takes little effort to soothe the aches with magic. Threading the healing through both knees and easing the slight strain he finds in the other man’s thighs. “I can assure thee that thou art no such thing.”
“Careful,” Thancred reaches down to thread their fingers together before lifting his hand away. Up to his face where he brushes a light kiss against Urianger’s knuckles. “Too much of that and we’ll be testing that theory.”
Urianger doubts that assertion, and rolls to his front. One arm draping over Thancred comfortably as he tucks his face in the juncture of neck and shoulder, “Thy spirit’s willingness is remarkable, but thine flesh is another matter. Verily would I be impressed if thou were moved to do anything more than sleep the rest of thine day away.”
“Is that a challenge?” Thancred asks with a glint in his eyes that would be dangerous if it were not shuttered almost immediately with a jaw cracking yawn.
“Mayhaps one for another day,” Urianger concedes as he allows the warmth of his lover and the comfort of the fingers that rise to card through his hair to lull him into a peaceful doze.