Work Text:
Thancred’s not sure he will ever tire of the bright, cacophonous colours of Radz-at-Han.
It’s a stark difference from the monotonous sands of Amh Araeng that he grew so used to over his time on the First. A welcome one, at that. So it’s no wonder that he winds up back in the city, weeks after their merry band has officially dissolved. He traces hands against the vivid walls of buildings, feels the join of garish mosaic tile, breathes the warm, humid air by the fountain at the city’s heart.
It’s another face he’s looking for, though, and he keeps it in his mind as he wades deep into the bustling crowds of the markets. It’s not surprising to him at all that he finds who he’s seeking in one of the only quiet spots in the city: a cafe tucked away in a corner. He slides to the counter, orders a drink, and when it’s prepared he takes his seat, utterly unbidden, at the table farthest away.
The table’s only other occupant flicks his gaze up at him, then back down. “Well,” Estinien says, gruff voice rumbling as he picks at his lunch. “I hadn’t expected you back here for some time.”
“Mm, suppose not,” Thancred smiles slyly as he sips his spiced tea. “But I had thought it might be nice to stop back here before continuing on our travels.”
“Then Urianger is with you.”
It’s not really a question and Thancred knows that, however much joy he derives from playing their little games. “Naturally.”
Estinien nods his head toward Thancred’s distinctly Urianger-less side.
“Please,” Thancred waves a hand dismissively, “he’s hardly lost without me. I thought he might make some use of the markets during our visit.”
“So the markets are not the purpose of your visit.” Estinien quirks a brow, likely already perfectly aware of the answer to his non-question.
“Oh no, thought only to check up on our newest and most stoic of members.” Not like Estinien would ever call if there was an issue, even with the linkpearl Thancred had thrown him in the chaos of the sky falling. The only possible way to ensure the man is truly doing well is to visit him in person and see for yourself. Not ask, but see.
Estinien huffs a laugh. “Can you call someone a member of a party that no longer exists?” He takes a bite of his food, gives a tiny shake of his head. “You’ve an odd way of operating.”
Thancred laughs in return. Just as they both know Estinien would never reach out, they also know that the Scions’ dissolution was primarily for show. And, besides, “Even if we’re not coworkers, stands only to reason that I want to ensure the health of a friend.” If it were anyone else, Thancred would offer a reassuring hand. It being Estinien, he doesn’t. Instead he gives a tilt of the head and hopes Estinien can see the mischievous glint in his eye.
Estinien repays only in a muffled “hmph” as he takes another bite of his food, then rises from the table. “If that’s the way of it.”
Thancred stands too, stubbornly keeping his eagerness from making his legs give out. “Please, it needn’t only be–”
“We know what this is.” Estinien says, cold, like there’s frost on his lips. “There’s no sense in pretending it’s more than that.”
Thancred is about to argue, but more than he knows Estinien doesn’t want him to take his hand, he knows for certain that the man before him would not want to cause any sort of a scene. Already, the cafe’s few other patrons make chancing glances at the two, hiding their curiosity in their affairs poorly. “We can discuss this more later.”
Estinien nods and walks off, Thancred trailing quickly behind.
However used he may be to traveling with an Elezen man, Thancred has to strive to keep up with Estinien’s sharp clip and look natural. Still, as they go, the streets turn quieter and quieter, the residential blocks a far cry from the markets or even the idle chatter of a relatively empty restaurant. Barely a couple faces poke from windows, discuss matters quietly on stoops and in doorways. One or two might wave weakly, already safe in the knowledge that Estinien won’t return it, though Thancred does somewhat.
They enter the room Estinien’s been given while he stays in the city to quell the threat of the blasphemies, its bare walls just as saturated with colour as the rest of the city. Eye-searingly red and orange and yellow, they radiate a delighted warmth utterly at odds with the man himself. The only shreds of Estinien’s own personality are the dresser piled with his armour and the spear leant against the wall beside.
So absorbed is Thancred in taking in this dichotomy that he doesn’t register Estinien’s shadow falling over him like a storm cloud.
Estinien makes no fanfare as he leans just the slightest to take Thancred’s mouth in his. Thancred, in turn, gasps into him as the kiss quickly turns heavy, the motion making his mouth ever more accessible for the elezen, diving deeper in. Thancred has to muster some sense of responsibility to push the man away, hands light on Estinien’s chest as he does. “Wait-” the words are hard to make, breathless as he is, “wait, we said we would discuss–”
“What is there to discuss?” Estinien ghosts his mouth over Thancred’s neck, grazing sharp teeth softly against his skin. “This was the reason you came, was it not?”
Thancred’s not about to lie, not when he has teeth at his throat. “Perhaps, but–”
“Then that’s it. Nothing else to be said,” and deft fingers begin falling on Thancred, easing his jacket off, undoing the button of his breeches.
“Like I said before– Gods, can you wait–” Thancred dusts off Estinien’s hands, hard as that is with them tangled about his clothes. “I meant it when I said I wanted to check in on you. That you’re a friend.”
Estinien harumphs again, still stubbornly working Thancred out of his clothes. “You see me. I am whole, am I not?”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“ Fine, ” he grumbles, more growl than words. “I am fine. They treat me well here. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes,” Thancred says, a mite bit smug. “I had also wanted to check–” he adds quickly before Estinien can dip his hand down the front of Thancred’s pants, “ah, that you’re here fully of your own choice, and not just a sense of obligation. And to whisk you away if it is the latter.”
“Hmm,” Estinien hums, now finding a soft spot of flesh on Thancred’s throat, working it mercilessly for but a moment before he speaks again. “Indeed. Feels good to be of clear use. And to chat more with Vrtra.”
Thancred’s taken a bit aback by Estinien’s freeness with his words, but the feeling is quickly smothered by the sensation of hands reaching for his ass. After a quick breath he manages a, “full glad am I for it,” and reserves himself to the other’s touch.
Thancred is already offering the side of his neck for Estinien’s little teasings and niblings and Estinien takes full advantage of it, eventually trailing over to tip Thancred’s head back, pulling a drawing out, guttural sound as he sucks a hickey into Thancred’s clavicle.
“Not to mention–” Thancred starts, making Estinien sigh with obvious consternation.
“What else?”
Thancred lets a hand drift to Estinien’s face, gently pulling him from the crook of his neck to meet his icey eyes. “I really had wanted to see you. Not just for this.”
“Don’t be embarrassing.” Estinien’s face, normally placid and pale as a statue, tinges a slight pink as he glances away.
“Oh please,” Thancred huffs good-naturedly, pressing a chaste kiss to Estinien’s cheek like he knows he hates, “I’m always embarrassing.”
Estinien buries his face again in Thancred’s neck, hands returning to the task of ridding him of his clothes. Not that he was truly stopping him before, but now Thancred’s actively encouraging, tugging at Estinien’s clothing in turn. His tunic is quickly discarded to the floor as they make their way onto the bed.
As much as Thancred knows how Estinien likes to be the more active agent, evidenced clearly in his flurry of teeth and tongue the very moment the door is shut behind them, Thancred himself is just incapable of abstaining from giving service to the man. When they fall to the downy-soft cotton of his borrowed bedsheets, Thancred can’t help but roll himself on top, stradling Estinien’s waist and lavishing love over the elezen’s long neck or his sensitive ears.
“Don’t tease,” Estinien wrests out as Thancred takes his earlobe between his teeth.
“What, and cut the best part short?” With his words, Thancred gives Estinien a rough roll of his hips, the material of both their trousers between them giving delicious friction yet the heat of the other’s skin feels so far away.
Estinien chokes back a gasp. “I’ve little idea why this would be the best part,” his hands come back up to Thancred’s waistband, tugging. “Undress.”
The command, whether intentionally or not, makes Thancred shiver, and he removes himself from Estinien’s hips long enough to pull his trousers and smallclothes off, Estinen doing much the same for himself. As he settles back down, Thancred goes in once more on kissing Estinien, the dragoon’s teeth sharp as he nips and bites at Thancred’s broad lips.
Even without his gauntlets, Estinien’s hands are like claws gripping Thancred’s ass, nails digging into his skin and easing him open. Thancred huffs a breathless laugh. “Right to the point then, eh?”
“No reason to dally.” Estinien replies, voice a rumbling purr against Thancred’s skin. “Need you time to prepare?”
“I may be good, but I’m hardly that good.” Thancred rolls his eyes and smirks goodnaturedly as he bends down to fetch his trousers again, fishing from the pocket a little bottle of lube and a rubber. In a moment he has one hand slick and reaching for himself when Estinien stops him, slim fingers around his wrist. Thancred sighs dramatically, but pours some of the lube in Estinien’s offered hand.
“Turn around.”
Thancred does as he’s told. As much as he loves to play the brat, he wants more to have those strong and slender fingers inside him. Estinien doesn’t make him wait long, circling Thancred’s entrance with one finger only briefly before diving in, so gentle yet so insistent as he works Thancred open. Already unembarrassed by his involuntary noises, each new finger makes Thancred groan, soft and breathy sounds escaping his lips as he encourages Estinien on before he’s grinding down on his hand, begging for more. Teeth return, Estinien nipping gently at the jut of Thancred’s neck, clean hand snaking around to Thancred’s front to feel how hard he already is. Satisfied, he grabs the packet with the condom and rolls it onto himself in a quick motion, his own soft grunt mirroring Thancred’s previous.
Wordlessly, Estinien’s hand retreats and he pulls Thancred back onto him, the Hyur’s hips hovering over his own waiting length. Thancred reaches down, helping to position as he sinks lower, Estinien’s tip easing past his entrance. He takes a slow breath as he eases down more, knowing well without looking the length of Estinien’s cock, how it feels in him. Thancred holds onto that memory, willing his body to relax as much as it is able as he pulls himself off, only the tip remaining in him, before falling down entirely to Estinien’s hips.
Estinien gasps outright, hands previously so careful and gentle around Thancred’s hips drawing tight, nails pressing semi-circles into Thancred’s skin. “Fury,” Estinien swears as he gets his bearings again. After a few breaths as Thancred does the same, Estinen trails a nail ever so softly down Thancred’s spine. “Whoreson.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Thancred huffs in return, bracing his hands on Estinien’s knees. “Though I don’t love the insinuation that my mother taught me how to fuck a man.”
Estinien arches his back lightly, pressing his torso to Thancred’s and returning his teeth to the man’s shoulder, biting kisses along the line of his scapula. “Whore,” he says affectionately, a warm undercurrent as the words are spoken close to Thencred’s skin, “filthy, glorious slut.”
Thancred hums a groan, trying and failing to not divulge how much that affects him, though he’s not sure why he bothers any more. Estinien had called him a whore the first time they lay together, and the second, and the time after that. Though something, now, in the way that he says it, feels different. Like it’s a pet name, a loving diminutive, a derivation of his own name that Estinien would whisper into his flesh like a prayer or a tattoo, as holy as his patron’s name or as permanent as his archon mark. “Much better,” is all he can voice of his thoughts.
Estinien gives Thancred another moment to either anguish or adjust to the cock fully sheathed in him, before he starts kissing into Thancred’s neck in earnest, letting him know without words that Thancred can move at any time. So he does. Thancred starts up a steady but brisk pace, bouncing and grinding on Estinien’s cock like his life depends on it. Estinien quickly grows antsy, not allowing Thancred to do all the work as his own hips snap up into Thancred’s, making both men groan and growl into each other’s mouths, their persistent kiss growing messy and wet. Each thrust rattles them, unable to keep their mouths on each other while not willing to let go.
Suddenly, Estinien rolls them over, flipping Thancred onto his back and Estinien above him, cock only slipping out for a moment before he’s back inside, Thancred’s legs looped over his hips, Estinien fucking into him at a brutal pace. Their skin meets with a wet slap, each reunion of their hips making both sigh as they’re more able to keep their kiss going, Thancred not needing to bend half over himself to meet Estinien’s mouth. Thancred whispers his name, a rush of syllables between tongue and teeth that makes Estinien break their kiss.
“Oh?” It’s not a question, he knows he will get no answer. “So soon? You’re getting old.” The grin on his face is all sharp teeth as Estinien slows their pace infinitesimally, looping his long fingers around the base of Thancred’s cock, his thumb at the tip.
Thancred whines deliciously, rolling his hips up into Estinien’s hands as if vainly attempting to dislodge Estinien’s grip but gaining nothing.
“Beg, whore.” Estinien growls above him. “Beg, or you shall not finish tonight.”
Thancred’s face is alight with red, face frozen in a giddy smile as he shakes his head and grinds his hips. Estinien’s thrusts don’t stop, each hitting home and making Thancred shiver and moan. He wants to come, so badly he wants to but he’s not about to break yet, feeling the coil in his gut grow taut but his skin is barely raw, hips barely aching with the effort.
Estinien pounds into him further, breath coming in deep huffs as he readjusts his grip on Thancred’s cock. As much as Thancred wants to spin their game out just a little bit longer, the idea of them coming together strikes him as romantic and he gives into the tightening of his chest, the white line of heat extending from his spine right down to his aching, wanting cock. “Please,” he breathes, voice a strained gasp, “please, Estinien, let me come.”
And Estinien lets go, not just freeing Thancred but drawing the same firm fingers over the length of him, pulling from him an instant, shuddering orgasm. Thancred clenches down, tight over Estinien’s cock as he keeps fucking him through his high, tipping Estinien off the edge, his own finish blooming hotly into Thancred.
Estinien, dense bastard that he is, has the good graces not to collapse right on Thancred, instead falling to his side with a deep sigh, a long, lazy arm resting heavily over Thancred’s chest.
Thancred chuckles lightly, raising Estinien’s hand only to press light, fluttering kisses over his knuckles. “Need you a rest after that?”
The response is a grumbled “hrng” in the affirmative.
“I thought I was to be the one getting old?” Thancred teases, leaning over to peck soft kisses in Estinien’s messy hair.
“Too many rich foods.” Estinien grumbles again, slipping a hand under Thancred’s waist and drawing him closer, their quickly cooling skin maintaining some warmth between them. “I’m fairly spoiled here.”
“As I said before,” Thancred cards his fingers through Estinien’s misty locks, pulling his bangs out of his slightly damp face, “we might take you away, if you’d like.” Thancred can’t help a light chuckle. “I highly doubt Urianger would disapprove.”
Estinien hums in thought, rolling over to press his lips to Thancred’s shoulder. “Have you a particular fondness for Elezens, or just the strange ones?”
Thancred barks a laugh, quickly melting into a sigh as Estinien makes his way from his shoulder up to his neck. “Something of the sort. I had thought you needed a rest.”
“And a shower,” Estinien admits, not relenting his forward assault on Thancred’s soft skin. “We ought to bathe before we rendezvous in the markets.”
Thancred beams, enough confirmation that Estinien will be joining them. “Sounds just grand to me.”