Work Text:
The year was 1837. Normalcy had mostly returned to Dunwall. The rightful Empress had been reinstated, a cure for the Plague was well under way, and a whole gaggle of structural engineers under Emily's watch were even putting together tentative plans to reclaim the Flooded District. Corvo had settled back into his life in Dunwall Tower. He'd had considerable difficulties readjusting to the drudgery of court life, yes, but so had everybody; it was funny how fast a normal, uneventful life had become alien to all of them. They had successfully made it through the worst of it. Life was slowly falling back into place. After the bloodbath that had been the previous year, it felt like the sun was finally beginning to shine on the Empire's capital again.
And the sun was shining on Dunwall. It was the Month of Timber. Summer hadn't quite arrived yet but was unwaveringly getting closer. The temperatures had risen to a point where during the daytime, going outside no longer necessitated a jacket. It hadn't rained all day and the air was pleasantly dry for once, unusual for a month that was normally characterized by constant rain. The windows to Corvo's bedroom in the Tower were slightly ajar. His curtains fluttered ever so slightly in the breeze. Not that Corvo was paying them much mind; his attention was fully consumed by the Outsider, whose ass he was absolutely buried in.
Corvo was kneeling on the bed, the Outsider's back pressed against his torso. He was lazily thrusting into the Outsider, a gentle hand pumping the Outsider's dick, warm and slow. The air was mild and smelled of spring. The Outsider's eyes were closed, his lips slightly ajar. His neck was cool against Corvo's lips, eternally cool, the chill of the Void emanating from his naked body like the smell of a strange flower, alien and yet by now deeply familiar to Corvo. Tension was building inside the Outsider, Corvo could feel it, could feel the pace of his hips steadily increasing, hear the way he was panting, and so Corvo pressed a gentle hand on the Outsider's back, a soft touch against his shoulder blades. They'd gotten into the habit of switching positions so Corvo could look at the Outsider's face when he came; Corvo didn't particularly know why he liked it so much, really, it just felt so close, so intimate. The Outsider let out a small acknowledging moan and let Corvo's hand press him down onto the bed, offering no resistance, all pliant and soft. But when Corvo's hand left his back the Outsider didn't slip off Corvo. Didn't reposition himself, didn't roll over. The Outsider, in fact, settled quite comfortably where Corvo's hand had guided him, knees and torso on the bed, ass up. When he looked back at Corvo through half-lidded eyes, he was grinning slyly. Corvo knew that smile. He braced for trouble. "Make me," the Outsider said with a grin, his teeth sharp and shining.
Corvo did indeed make him.
With that, it had felt like a door had been opened. A door that bad been long locked tight, chained shut and shamefully hidden behind furniture. They'd talked for a long time that night – about what they wanted, what they needed. And about what they didn't want. Such a small act – one sentence of the lightest bit of playful defiance – but it had turned out to be the hair-wide crack that successfully broke an entire dam. As it happened, being made to switch positions by force wasn't the only thing the Outsider fancied Corvo make him do, and luckily for him it wasn't the only thing Corvo was willing to do to him either.
Corvo still found himself a bit surprised by how much he wanted it, now that it was on the table. It – power. Control. The almost unhinged level of lust that had crashed through him like a wave when the Outsider had resisted him was surprising and new. He'd... experimented with Jessamine. Or perhaps more accurately, Jessamine had experimented with him. No man or woman could've told Jessamine what to do. He'd been the subject of his fair share of riding crops and handcuffs in her royal chambers, and he hadn't complained – in fact he'd enjoyed it quite a bit with her. Taking the reins in hand himself wasn't something that had ever even come up when he'd shared a bed with her, but now that it was on the table with the Outsider he found he was very much in favor of the idea. Found that he was willing to lean into it quite a bit, too.
The Outsider meanwhile was, well, the Outsider. He'd seen everything under the sun and then some. That simply came with the territory of being the Outsider; you could only see everything for so long before you'd truly seen everything. And he'd done his fair of things too – although not necessarily in what one might call a close relationship. None he could (or would) recall to Corvo, anyway. And so they embarked on their little adventure together, both of them simultaneously experienced and complete novices, and slowly felt out each other's needs and boundaries, looking for footholds and stable ground along the way.
The day's usual orders of business were creeping by even more slowly than usual. Guarding Emily, now that the initial painful adjustment period had been mostly weathered, wasn't all that exciting at the best of times. (In fact the times it was exciting were usually the bad times.) And it sure wasn't exciting when the only points on the agenda were related to a potential trade conflict brewing between two cities in Tyvia and Morley who were both looking to dominate the, Void what was it, the stagecoach furnishing business? Corvo had already forgotten how this kind of conflict ever made it to a stage so heated as to necessitate the Empress herself be informed about it. He was glad he didn't have to care about things like that too much. Reportedly the tempers of the High Judges of Tyvia and the king and queen of Morley had flared enough over this scuffle that it was very likely Emily would have to intervene some time soon. Good to hear stagecoach interior sales were the heaviest things on Tyvia and Morley's plate right now when Dunwall in the meantime was still struggling to contain a plague that had almost killed the entire city.
Commerce could make tempers flare but not usually to the point of attempting to take an Empress's life, and so they'd even afforded him a chair to sit down on. That's how safe they felt. Corvo didn't mind. His thoughts gladly used the hours drifting by to wander where they liked, which on this day was pretty much exclusively what he and the Outsider would be doing once the sun had set. They'd be meeting that evening. He'd ordered the Outsider to his bedroom – what a lark, ordering the Outsider around. He scoffed a bit to himself at the thought, couldn't help but crack a small smile. There he was, a nobody from Serkonos, some low-born Karnacan working class kid, telling a god – the god, for Corvo knew no others – what to do. Not like he wasn't used to giving orders, he would've turned out to be a real shit Royal Protector and Spymaster if that kind of thing hadn't been coming naturally to him by now. He knew his way around commands. And he knew his way around all the insidious ways one could hurt a human body; around bruises that lasted for weeks, and punches that left no evidence. Around whips and ropes and the persuasiveness of vices applied to fingers. Void, yes, he knew them all. But still – this was the Outsider. And Corvo was human. No matter how he sliced it, it was a strange feeling and one he was still getting used to: treating the tentatively human personification of the Void behind the world like a goddamn grunt. Like a dog. Sit, stay. Bark. Void he could probably actually get him to bark if he wanted to. Down on your knees, dog, bark. A dizzying rush of arousal swept through Corvo at the thought and his hands balled into fists on his thighs. He was glad the rest of the table was having such a lively discussion because he was pretty sure his cock twitched in his pants at the thought. The fucking Outsider on his knees in front of him – there was not a single human being in the entire Empire who wouldn't have felt absolutely drunk with power over a thought like that. The image had come to him quite a few times in recent memory and it had always immediately gone to his head (and to other parts, he couldn't deny it). Having a god on his knees before you, fuck, if that wasn't the most deliciously debauched thing there could ever be. So far, just the idea had made him feel so utterly drunk with power that every time he'd had it he'd immediately pushed it out of his mind. He would do it one day. Get him down on his knees. He'd also have to make sure he did it at the beginning of an extended vacation far away from court in case that one action drove him completely mad with power. Better safe than sorry.
And he already had a full plan for tonight anyway, Corvo thought and smiled, relaxing back in his chair. Yes, he had in mind quite the treat for the Outsider. One that would be sure to surprise and delight, and most likely hurt quite a fair bit.
The Outsider was waiting for him just as he'd been told. Corvo could tell he was even before he'd opened the door to his bedroom – wherever the Outsider went, the Void stood close by, watching, waiting, and once you knew what to look for its signs were glaringly obvious. Really, sometimes he wondered how he was the only one who seemed to notice them. How there'd been High Overseers and loyal Brothers and Sister of the Abbey a door, two, three away from the Outsider without ever realizing. Or maybe they did. Maybe they ignored it. Him. Too great their fear, too awesome his power, too much money to be made on selling the world their crusty little pamphlets and candles and whatever crap they were hawking now. Maybe, below their thick tunics and starched waistcoats, in the dark of night, they felt the same depraved and wanton pull towards the Outsider that Corvo did, and they knew that if they ever stepped into his sight they'd end up performing acts for him (with him) that were every bit as perverse as the ones Corvo had in mind.
The sun was low and the bedroom was dark when Corvo entered it. He remedied that with the simple flick of a light switch; he wanted light for what he'd planned tonight. All the light he could get. The Outsider was indeed waiting for him, perched on a commode like a strange ornament.
"Undress," Corvo said simply and took off his coat. "Stand right there." He pointed to a spot a good distance from any furniture, as near to the middle of the room as one could get. He undid his side holster. Giving orders felt good. It felt good to not have to talk much – to be able to just get straight to the point directly without needing any of the usual unnecessary flourishes, the fake smiles, the minced words. He'd spent such a long time silent during what Emily and him now both referred to as the bad old days that even now words did not come quite as easily as they had before. He rid himself of his weaponry, making sure to unload his gun, check his stock of bullets, the usual routine. Knowing every moment he spent here was another the Outsider would be waiting made him perform the task all that more diligently. The Outsider would be doing a lot of waiting that night. Never hurt to start early. He'd long disappeared from his spot on the commode in a cloud of ash and smoke and when Corvo had finally finished with his routine (everything in its place, all his gadgets nice and tidy) he looked up to see the Outsider had reappeared where ordered, entirely naked. It threw Corvo so off guard for a second he almost let out a laugh. Of course that's what he did, how on earth had Corvo thought the fucking Outsider would've actually undressed for him instead of just letting everything disappear into the Void all at once. Corvo managed to wrangle control over himself back at the last second, suppressing his laughter into what he hoped came out as just a simple smile. He was honestly a bit disappointed. He'd been looking forward to seeing the Outsider strip, the lanky fuck. "Do it slowly next time. I want to watch you do it." The Outsider huffed. It sounded suspiciously like he was trying to cover up that the idea was both deeply embarrassing and just as strongly arousing to him. Corvo hummed to himself. Next time. "Hands by your side," Corvo said.
The last fragments of the Void slowly dissipated around the Outsider, flecks of ash floating away into nothingness. The evening light fell warm and orange on him. Now Corvo's attention was all on him. All on the Outsider. And gods, Corvo was in love. So deeply in love with this strange figure standing before him. That was all there was to it, really – all he had planned for this part of the evening and all he was now joyously doing: indulging, decadently, in being in love. The Outsider could hurry himself along all he wanted, now it was Corvo's turn to dictate the pace, and Corvo would have gladly let his eyes rest on the Outsider's naked form for the remainder of his natural life. His gaze wandered over the Outsider's body slowly. Sampling hipbones, thighs, hands, the nape of his neck or the swell of his chest. There was nothing that was distracting him. No pressing matters to attend to. Nothing to do but to look. And what a sight the Outsider was. It was hard to focus on just one part – and so Corvo didn't; with equal pleasure he took each part of him in like a delectable morsel, rejoicing in whatever his eyes settled on for that moment before finding the next spot to delight in. Jutting collarbones, the soft curve of his throat, the vein snaking down his dick, he didn't know where to look, everywhere his eyes went he saw beauty. The Outsider's hands flexed uncomfortably, awkwardly, and Corvo's eyes were tethered to them as with rope until their movement finally stopped. Such thin fingers; his wrists were, what, half the size of Corvo's? His rib cage was prominent, his muscles wiry. Something coiled in Corvo, a deep, possessive feeling, he wanted to spend the rest of his life here, just the two of them, he was his, he belonged to him, they were one, forever, that's what he wanted, forever. He wanted to spend eternity taking him in, drinking him in, feasting on this gracious creature, this bewitching man – boy – god —
He had seen the Outsider naked before, of course, but never like this, really – Void, he felt like he'd never truly seen him at all. Never seen him so clearly. So exposed. They'd always been tangled up in sheets, the Outsider's flesh a whisper, a hint of skin half hidden by fabric and Void and shadow. Flashes of his form. Too strong the passion, too dark the nights. Too close the swirling mists of the Void. He realized he'd rounded the boy without meaning to, as if sleepwalking, lost in the curves and edges of his body. The electric light was relentless. The Outsider was an object for him to study, all its facets, flaws and features mercilessly on show. Fuck, he looked so fragile. His skin was so pale, the evening sun painting its colors on him as if on a canvas. Naked and powerless and yet powerful beyond human comprehension.
What a decadent feeling. Being able to rest in his beauty as if on the softest of pillows, nothing to be done but to admire. Corvo's gaze meandered up and down the Outsider's body. In a strange way it felt like seeing him for the first time all over again – but oh Void, was this meeting more gentle to the both of them. There was no blood staining Corvo's hands, no sewer muck clinging to his boots. The wound that Daud's sword had cut into his life (into Jessamine's chest) was no longer raw and bleeding and he wasn't thirsting for blood, revenge, for his enemy's heads on spikes put up over the gates of Dunwall Tower for everyone to see. No, he would put that out of his mind. Those days were over. He was here, he was safe, and the Outsider was beautiful. And by all the horrors of the Void he was just so fucking beautiful. He was enchanting. Looking at him made Corvo feel dizzy in a wine-drunk way, like a heavy velvet curtain was wrapping itself around him, smothering him, dark and sensual. His hands absolutely ached to join his eyes in caressing the Outsider, yearned so badly to touch, to caress, to manipulate in all the ways a lover could, and Corvo was pretty much ready to give in to their desires. The wait had been delectable, true, but if he let it go on much longer he feared he'd go insane.
Corvo's gaze had finally found way to the Outsider's face and the Outsider met his gaze unwaveringly. The same sardonic hint of a smile on his lips, the same cruel furrow of his brow. That eternal inscrutable expression in his eyes, unblinking, unending. Questioning. Daring. Challenging. Like he knew all of Corvo's darkest secrets and was ready to whisper them all into his ear one by wicked one. Corvo didn't falter. "Don't look me in the eye unless asked to," he ordered, "and don't speak unless spoken to". The Outsider blinked once, twice, (an act deliberately chosen, a challenge to Corvo in and of itself, as they both knew he had no need for blinking. Give it an hour or two, Corvo thought, and he might punish a transgression such as this – but not now, not just yet. Let the man settle first.) mulling it over. It was a marvelous display of cockiness. So good, in fact, it managed to almost avoid being spoiled by the knowledge that the Outsider, after all, had asked for this himself. Finally he acquiesced. His black eyes found themselves a spot on the rug to focus on. "Good," Corvo murmured, and maybe it was the sunset reflecting on the Outsider's face, but he felt like he could detect the lightest hint of a blush creeping into his cheeks in response.
With that established the time to touch had finally come. Corvo's hands found the Outsider with all the ecstatic frenzy of a man lost in the desert for days plunging headfirst into a lake. The Outsider's skin was cool and soft under his touch. Such a joy to touch, to feel, he'd been starving, his hands slotted around the Outsider's body as if they'd been made for it, as if he'd been born for it. He grabbed, prodded. Fingers tasting the hard rise of bones under skin and the supple swell of musculature. But something was wrong, he could feel it. There was tension, the Outsider's body had stiffened. He's nervous, apprehensive. Uncertain, maybe, of Corvo's intentions. "Relax," Corvo whispered gently. "Not gonna hurt you. Not just yet." His palms found the Outsider's shoulders and settled there, giving him time. At last, the Outsider's shoulders dropped. Corvo's hands mirrored the movement and, slowly – so as not to startle – glided down with them, like water running off a stone. They paused over his shoulder joint, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over the jutting bones there. Feeling the muscle underneath the skin – wiry but powerful, like a wild dog's, ready to take off if need be. Ready to run and fight and tear and kill. He squeezed the Outsider's shoulders. Possessively. All his. The Outsider's cheeks had turned a beautiful rose-color.
A strange impulse, long brewing, finally boiled over in Corvo and without really meaning to, he found that he was lowering himself down on one knee. Overcome. His head felt warm and soft and when he thought of what he was going to do to the Outsider something deep and devious lurched inside him. One of his hands found the inside of the Outsider's knee, the other one gladly grabbed his ass. (Funny how it was him on his knees now; how, had anyone walked in on them at that moment, they surely would've thought it was the Outsider who was in control and who was the one who'd been giving the orders.) Corvo leaned in and kissed his knee. Not for any particular reason, it just felt right to do it. "Beautiful," he breathed against his skin. Looking up, he caught a glimpse of the Outsider staring at him. His lips were hanging open slightly, a hint of teeth beyond, his cheeks flushed and one hand raised as if forgotten and discarded halfway through some now no longer important motion. His cock hung heavy, stiff, getting ready to harden or maybe already on its way there. Immediately upon their eyes meeting, the Outsider looked away startled, flinching from his sight as if from a hot plate. Corvo grinned darkly and joyfully against the flesh of the Outsider's thigh.
Corvo's hands looked tanned and rough against the Outsider's skin. All the years of cushy (and well moisturized) living in gloomy glamorous Dunwall had left his skin supple and smooth compared to what it had been in his youth – and yet compared to the Outsider, his arms may as well have been those of a Serkonan dockworker, sunburnt to pieces and grizzled by saltwater and fish-scales. Hairy, too, he was, compared to the Outsider, Corvo thought amusedly. Guess not having to shave was just part of the perks of being immortal Void manifest. "You're beautiful," he repeated and kissed his knee again, this time a bit higher, where the hard kneecap gave way to the musculature of the thigh. "Gorgeous. Exquisite." The Outsider bit back a reply. The way his body stiffened and his blush deepened at Corvo's words were enough of an answer to Corvo though, who grinned and concluded with: "A fucking work of art."
Now his lips could run their pass over his body, and this they did joyously. Tasting the jutting lines of the Outsider's ribs, the subtle curves of his torso. The Outsider was slender and gracious, lanky maybe, an almost awkward discordance to the composition of his body. Like he wasn't quite done growing yet. Yet he was older than anything Corvo ever knew or loved, older than he could ever even begin to grasp. The depths of his eyes were ancient and eternal, and his teeth were so, so sharp. He was maddeningly fascinating to Corvo. His body was an endless sea of questions, and Corvo wanted to plunge into it and drag all the answers out with his mouth, warm, wet, parting seaweed and drinking the muddy water in with big, deep gulps. The taste of his skin made Corvo vaguely think of mint, not in the taste itself but in the sensation it left in his mouth, that strange moment of emptiness before the cold poured in. His mouth danced over ribs, over a nipple – he bit down just a bit, teasing more than actually meaning it, and the Outsider shuddered under his touch, a small moan falling from his mouth and over Corvo's head like a drizzle of rain on a hot summer day.
Corvo adored it, the graceful, nervous melody of the Outsider's body, of bones and sinew, soft and supple flesh. Looking as if he'd been carved from marble, carved from whalebone – and yet, there were all the little imperfections, the blemishes, the fine lines and birthmarks. (Birthed, then, from who?) The speckling of small scars, some large even. It were the little, maddening flaws that drew Corvo in – he wanted to explore them, map them, memorize them one by one with fingers, teeth and tongue. He wanted to learn the history of every single one, if the Outsider was willing to share. Where did they come from? Did they come from anywhere – or were they just meaningless, random flaws imprinted by an unthinking Void as it had formed this body from nothing? Were there stories behind the scars? Were the stories of the Outsider having been born a human true – had there been a man once, a boy, whose skin had been cut, who'd cried out in pain? Had there been a child, once, who had been destined to become this creature, unaging, undying, eternal? What knife had cut him, what thorn had pricked him? But Corvo would never prod, of course, not now, not ever. It would be rude. Like asking a fine lady her age. And in some way not knowing was what was most exciting about all the strange discordances in the Outsider's body – they were riddles, forever unsolved, and that just made him so much more enchanting. From every unknown, every impossibility, sprung forth unending possibilities. He was the eternal unanswered question. He was nothing concrete and so he was everything. He was contradiction. He fascinated Corvo.
"No wonder people worship you," Corvo said, his fingers momentarily interlacing with the Outsider's, then moving on to wander some more over swathes of soft skin. He'd gotten back up again. "You're the most fascinating creature I've ever met." The Outsider breathed out softly. "Funny – an army of people worship you, and here you are, groveling to a nobody from Karnaca. You think they'd still bow at your feet if they saw you now?" Corvo gripped his chin, examined his face. The Outsider chewed on his lip for a moment, clearly biting back some much-desired remark. Corvo really needed to tell him to be quiet more often. Watching him squirm trying not to speak up was exquisitely fun. He leaned in to kiss his cheekbone, one hand dropping to palm a nipple, the other playing with his hair, then dropping past the rise of his shoulder blades to the small of his back. The Outsider hissed out a breath and pressed himself against him. His erection was definitely noticeable now, and so was Corvo's. "I'm the only one who'll ever see you like this," Corvo said against the rise of his cheek. (Rationally, Corvo knew that was most likely not actually true – forever was a long time. But whatever happened before and after him was none of his concern; Corvo's personal forever was his own lifetime, really.)
In a way it was funny to Corvo how much of an effect this was having on the Outsider – the simple act of being worshiped. Corvo'd have thought the Outsider would've long grown used to it by now. Even to physical attention – he was sure there were plenty of desperate men and women throwing themselves at his feet (and other body parts) in depraved midnight rituals, vying for the Outsider's power and affection. But maybe the crux of the issue was that nobody worshiped his body for his body's sake; they only worshiped it because of the power it held. The body was tangential. The only thing those we sought out the Outsider truly cared about was what his body could do – do as an extension of the Void, as a god, as a manipulator of fates. And of course Corvo, too, was in complete fucking awe of the power the Outsider held. It was always there, he could feel it thronging under his skin, in his muscles, his breath. Thinking about it for too long made the mark on Corvo's hand light up and made him feel like something inside him was slipping, was falling, like the world he'd always perceived was threatening to unravel. Yes, the power was there, just under the surface. But not only had Corvo chosen not to look at it – the Outsider himself had chosen not to use it. Instead he had chosen, freely and enthusiastically, to surrender it and himself to Corvo. He could kill Corvo. At any moment, without so much as flinching. It would take him less than a breath. Less than a thought. He could do unimaginable things to Corvo, to everyone Corvo loved, to the entire blasted world. And yet he had chosen to let simple, human, mortal Corvo be in control. Was letting Corvo explore him at his own leisure and behest, letting him do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, do to him, with him, use him in any way he saw fit. The most powerful being in the known cosmos had chosen to be reduced to a beautiful instrument, one that sung not with music but pleasure, Corvo's pleasure, and wasn't that beautiful?
Caressing his face, looking into his black eyes, Corvo understood why so many were so desperate to have the Outsider's attention. To see him. Why so many lost their minds and souls in pursuit of this elusive creature. Corvo could feel it too. Could feel the draw of the abyss in him, and that if he didn't watch out, he could drown in him, fall into him, endlessly, and be swallowed whole. And oh Void some dark, animalistic part of Corvo wanted it, too, wanted to let himself be consumed, his desire for the Outsider a voracious, burning fire deep in his gut. The Outsider was someone you could get lost in – someone who, if you weren't careful, would graciously and gracefully take all your attention, your devotion, your life, would take and take and keep on taking everything you gave until there was nothing left of you. And he was so big, so great, that you could give him your entire life and it would be nothing to him but a grain of sand, a speck of dust; an entire human being's totality was to the Outsider so negligible and insignificant it escaped any notice at all, could be discarded like the errant seed in an apple slice or a fly, shoo-ed away by the unconscious waving of a hand, too small to even be consciously recognized.
He was terrible, he was beautiful. He was like drowning. And above all, he was Corvo's. Fuck. Corvo's fingers dug into the Outsider's chin at the thought, he had to steady himself against him. What a feeling, to know this wondrous being was his, truly. That he knew him like no other ever had. He was one lucky son of a bitch, to just so happen to be one of the few who didn't have to actively give to gain the Outsider's attention. (Of course those who did just that, who gave actively and passionately to the Outsider, were ironically by definition boring and would never know him like Corvo did.) Corvo had had the luck to have been accidentally, passively thrust into being interesting. And now look at where they'd ended up. He ran a hand through the Outsider's hair, jet black like his eyes. Rightfully, he pondered as his fingers traced a small scattering of scars on the Outsider's forehead, standing this close to the edge, this close to the verge of the teetering Void, to this deathly silent maelstrom, should scare him.
Instead of fear, all he felt was desire.
A more debased and perverse kind of desire, too, than he'd felt even for Jessamine – this one was unconstrained by mortal morality, uninhibited by the complete lack of an ability for romance. Just pure need and lust and nothing else and it felt so goddamn good to indulge in it.
Corvo's hand gripped the back the Outsider's head, where the skull met the neck, hard but not painful. The want coursing through his veins was like shooting gallery birds on a track, running through him over and over again, wave after never-ending wave. His other hand grabbed the Outsider's ass and pressed the two of them together, body against body. The Outsider breathed out hard and struggled to stay silent. His dick was hard against Corvo's. His eyes were an endless night sky, a cliff falling off into eternity. "This doesn't stop until I want it to, understood?" Corvo said, low and hard and full of want. Want for flesh, for skin, for all the ways you could take a man apart.
"Yes, Corvo," the Outsider replied. His voice was breathy and needing. It made Corvo want to bury his teeth in him.
"I won't stop no matter what you say. Even if you say no. Even if you beg."
"Mmm," the Outsider murmured and Corvo let out a breathy chuckle at just how easy it seemingly was to shut the endless fountain of words in his mind entirely off.
"If you need out, you remember our word, don't you?"
"Yes. Leviathan."
"Good." He stroked his hair a bit, feeling strangely proud. A proud father. Void no he'd put that out of his mind. Familial bonds were the last thing he wanted to think about at this time. Back to here – back to now. "I want you on the bed. On your back." He took a pointed pause, making sure the Outsider saw him looking down between them. "Touch yourself," he said and ran a hand over the Outsider's hip, thumb digging in under where the hipbone jutted out – at that touch, the Outsider's mouth, wet and darkly inviting, opened in a way that was veritably perverse – "and you'll regret it." The Outsider nodded and then he'd disappeared into a swirl of ash, and honestly this time Corvo didn't mind it at all because the otherworldly swish of smoke and Void that brushed over his body as a result felt fucking good. The distant Void washed over him, clouding his senses, a wave of eternity and nothingness. His body shuddered a bit. Vaguely he made a mental note that they were going to have to explore this sensation more in depth some other time.
Rather dejectedly he had to let the feeling go. The Void drifted away like strands of silk, Corvo watching it go like a mournful girl watching her lover's ship depart. He blinked away the last remnants of the Void, steadied himself on his feet. What use was there, really, to falling into the Void now of all times? It could wait. It'd be there forever. The Outsider was waiting for him.
There on the bed, the Outsider looked simultaneously comically undersized to the point of almost seeming lost, and strangely powerful and regal among the depths of pillows and down duvets. The memory of their first meeting floated through Corvo's mind. How different a bed the one he'd lain on then had been. Funny how in hindsight, that whole first walk through the Void took on a pleasant, nostalgic hue, warmed by the knowledge of what this strange apparition that had identified itself as the Outsider would eventually become to Corvo – when at the time, Corvo would've loved more than to bury his knife deep inside him for all the shit he'd been put through. Never in a million years would he have imagined then, in the Hounds Pit Pub, that that meeting would lead him here.
Corvo settled comfortably on the bed beside the Outsider, facing him. He let his hands trail down his cool body. Singing over flesh, ribs. The Outsider was soft and malleable under his touch. The Hounds Pit was a thousand miles away. When Corvo's hands reached the Outsider's stomach, the muscles there jumped at his touch and he let out a sharp breath. There was tension inside him. A different kind now – not nervousness: need. If, way back on those moth-eaten pub benches, anyone'd told Corvo that one day he'd find himself in this position – find himself sharing a bed with an Outsider who was most decidedly aroused and waiting with baited breath for Corvo to get a move on – he'd have laughed in their face. Fuck, he'd have probably punched them out. The Outsider's cock stood mostly hard between them. The head was slightly glistening. A hint of expectant precum shining on it. Corvo pointedly avoided the area.
As it became clear Corvo's fingers weren't going to go any further in the direction of his groin, the Outsider huffed out a disappointed breath. "You really thought it'd be that easy?" Corvo asked. The Outsider frowned but didn't answer. Fine. He had his games he wanted to play, Corvo had his own. "Put your hands above your head."
The expression on the Outsider's face as he complied made Corvo grin. He was holding his hands above his head in a coy kind of way, like he was embarrassed but in order to attempt to hide the embarrassment he was trying to look kind of mad instead. Void, he was almost pouting. Corvo found it incredibly charming. Simultaneously, he was very much looking forward to bringing the Outsider to a point where he wasn't able to pretend anymore.
In the meantime, Corvo had gotten back off the bed and had poured himself something to drink. (It was just water, he needed to remain clearheaded tonight.) He was rounding the bed, swirling the liquid in his glass; it was cold, there was ice in it, and condensation was already settling on the outside. It felt good against his skin. He hadn't realized just how much he'd heated up already; Void, he must be blushing himself, he was realizing. Shitawful Spymaster he was, unable to hide how much this was affecting him. Not that his erection was helping either. He was smiling to himself while he was thinking this, indulging in his own little in-jokes. The Outsider, hands above his head, was shifting on the bed impatiently.
By the time Corvo had made his way around the bed and had stopped to admire him from that side, the Outsider had evidently had enough of waiting. "Are you intending to do anything other than prod and poke tonight, old man, or were you really just planning on getting me hard and leaving me there?", he said. His cheeks were flushed but his words and smile were sharp-edged, and his black eyes sparkled with all the impudence of a young and reckless colt strongly considering bucking off its master, jumping the fence and disappearing into the forest.
Corvo swooped in like a hawk, gripping the Outsider's wrists. The Outsider sucked in a long, sharp breath under him and his eyes widened and his back arched up hard. His grin was wide and hungry and so fucking ready. Corvo had been fully intending to go on – but now he found himself pausing. Something about looking at him, so close, seeing how hungry the Outsider was for more, how joyous he was in that dark and impish way of his, just wiped away the deviousness inside Corvo for a second. All of a sudden he just felt in love with him in a very wholesome way. As if the sun had suddenly broken through the cloud-cover and had spilled an incredibly warm light right into his chest. A sudden realization of "oh Void above and below, I love this person". (God. Creature. Whatever he was.) Corvo was smiling. When he leaned down to kiss the Outsider, it was slow and gentle. Tasting the Outsider in all his strange emptiness, soft lips against soft lips. Warm, in their own and peculiar way, despite the Outsider's mouth being as cold as the deep, dark sea. Corvo's hand still holding the Outsider's wrists in their strange lovers' embrace.
But as with the sun breaking through the clouds, the moment passed. The wind picked up. Corvo leaned in harder, more urgently. Pressing down on this frail and powerful body, pressing the Outsider into the bed, overtaken by some dangerous urge, kissing darker, more deeply, teeth and tongue not taking no for an answer. A fire burning in his stomach, wild and hungry. His hand tightened around the Outsider's wrists and he could feel the Outsider's hands ball into fists in response, and he grinned into the kiss, all want and hunger and razor-sharp teeth. Now they were ready.
When Corvo brought out the rope, he knew by the grin spreading on the Outsider's face he'd made the right decision.
Corvo bound the Outsider with skill and little issue. Couple of loops of rope around the wrists, a knot in between, job done. He knew his way around how to restrain people after all. Part of his job. Knew how to immobilize someone if you didn't want to cause them pain – and how to do it if you did, but that was for another day. The rope was smooth; procuring it hadn't been difficult or notable – rope of all kind was a normal business expense in Corvo's line of work. He could've done much more than merely bind the Outsider's wrists but for now, he'd decided, they might as well start small. Get him tied down by the arms, nothing further. He liked the freedom of movement it still allotted to the Outsider's lower body anyway – liked that it would let him kick and struggle. They could always expand on the topic of restraints in all the detail they desired later.
Corvo looked at his work with satisfaction: the Outsider, bound and tethered, stretched out on his bed. If the Abbey could see them! They'd invent a whole new and horrible form of capital punishment for Corvo alone! The Outsider shuffled his feet a bit, shifted, settled into the most comfortable position. He'd closed his eyes again, his rib cage moving slowly and precisely – he didn't need to breathe and they both knew it, he was doing it for show, as with most things. The way his dick stood at attention was an utterly gorgeous kind of obscene. There was a concentrated look on his face. A look of determination. Corvo was pretty sure he was trying to calm himself down – and he was not going to have any of that. "Oh no you won't," he hissed and his fingers grabbed the Outsider's nipple and twisted, cruelly, and the Outsider's mouth and eyes flew open, knees coming up, just as Corvo's other hand buried itself in the Outsider's hair, Corvo leaning over him, drinking in his pain. "You're not getting out of this one, love," Corvo said. A pained whine escaped out of the Outsider's lips and when Corvo let him go he fell back onto the covers with an indistinct swear. There was a thin layer of sweat on his skin now, almost imperceptible, but certainly there.
Corvo playfully lightly slapped the bruised nipple and the Outsider barked out an offended "ow". Then Corvo's hand was back and gentle. Caressing, massaging his stomach, his chest. Slowly, the muscles grew softer. The Outsider relaxed under him. Corvo's fingers glided lower, lower, and every time the Outsider gritted his teeth or tensed up in anticipation Corvo huffed out a little bemused breath and drew back. Performing a strange little dance between hand and arousal. He coasted along his thighs, too, for a few moments, getting closer, so close – and backing away again. With each recurrence of Corvo wandering too far south the Outsider's reaction grew stronger. His face had gone from lightly annoyed to watching Corvo intently, cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy. His lips were wet and red. This time when Corvo's wandering hand reached the rise of his hipbones and dared to brush just a bit further south, the Outsider's dick twitched and he moaned hard and pleadingly.
"Fucking gorgeous, you are." Corvo moved to brush his fingers over the Outsider's cheekbone. The Outsider let his face rest against the palm of Corvo's hand. Gently and almost absentmindedly, Corvo's thumb pushed into the Outsider's mouth. His lips took it in willingly. The Outsider's tongue felt slick and heavy against his skin, cool and alien, like some kind of sea slug. A strange sensation to be sure, but there weren't a lot of things about the Outsider that weren't strange, and so Corvo had grown quite fond of all the little ways his lover's body could surprise him. Corvo's other hand had completed its wanderings for now and was playing with one of the Outsider's nipples. Images were swelling up in Corvo, all the endless possibilities. The things they could do – no, the things he could do to the Outsider. All the implements he could use. Ropes and whips and god knew what. The thoughts came to him naturally, looking at this strange, defenseless figure, as if it was simply the predestined course of nature. Some part of him did think himself a bit perverse for it – like it shouldn't be what he was feeling, rightfully, like he shouldn't be looking at an utterly powerless being and be filled with thoughts of all the ways he could hurt it. But the Void knew, knew it down to its very bones, down to its darkest depths where no light ever reached and where the whales sang their strange, blind songs, that the Outsider could never really be powerless. If anything, Corvo was the powerless one in their dynamic. And, really, could something be truly wrong if everybody involved enjoyed it?
"The Abbey is fond of caning people," Corvo said, half talking to himself. The Outsider's eyes locked onto his lips with precision. His eyes were glittering. Interested. His tongue, wet and cool, was still working Corvo's thumb. "You think we should make use of their services? I get the feeling they wouldn't pass up the opportunity to put a rod to the Outsider." The Outsider hummed agreeingly. "Could get Sokolov to make machines for us. Could get all the exotic shit from the farthest reaches of the Empire." He was daydreaming more than actually talking to the Outsider now. His mind happily conjuring up images of welts and bruises, of cigars put out on pale skin.
"The things I could pull out of the Void for you – things you haven't even dreamed of," the Outsider said. Corvo looked up. His thumb, shiny with saliva, caressed the Outsider's lips. They were sensuously swollen, like a late-summer pomegranate. Probably just as juicy.
"Don't assume what dreams I'm capable of," Corvo replied with a grin. "Shit," he said and ran his hand down the Outsider's rosy cheek, "I'd love to see you – bleed?" His hand stopped. "Do you bleed?" The Outsider laughed. Corvo felt a bit dumbfounded, hit by the realization that he genuinely did not know if there was blood inside his lover's veins. What a thing to not know! But this was the Outsider, and only the most deluded of fools assumed anything about the way his weird and ethereal body worked. For all Corvo knew whale spermaceti ran through him, or witches' tears, or maybe literally nothing. Corvo had never needed to find out – nor had he desired to. Except for that first time he met him. Void had he thirsted for death and blood and vengeance then.
The Outsider's teeth shone bone-white as he replied. He was smiling. Devious. "Would you like to find out?" he asked. Corvo tsked in response.
"Sounds like you would like me to."
The Outsider's grin grew wider. "Really, Attano, you think me that low? Want and desire, such human emotions. To think I'd have need for them. You of all people should know better than to make that mistake." His tone was getting sharper.
"Don't think I remember it being me who started this whole affair." Corvo's voice was rising in turn, playing off the Outsider's energy. Feeding off his reactions. Corvo's marked hand had found its way into the Outsider's hair and now it pulled hard. The Outsider groaned, his grin now bordering on wolfish. Hungry.
"You were getting so dreadfully – hnn —" Corvo had pushed a hand under the Outsider's ass and had lifted it up a bit, pushing his hips up while one of Corvo's legs had pressed themselves between the Outsider's thighs. The underside of the Outsider's cock pressed against Corvo's thigh and just that sensation was enough to fluster the Outsider out of his words for a moment. "...so dreadfully boring, my dear," he concluded. His voice had become breathy and strained, almost to a point of shaking. "I had no choice but to intervene."
"Boring, huh? Say, love," Corvo said, "do you recall what I said about not speaking unless spoken to?" The Outsider's shoulders quaked with concealed laughter in response, absolutely infuriating Corvo.
"Honestly, Attano, ordering me around – sometimes I think you forget who it is you're dealing with."
Corvo pressed himself forward and down, his thigh pressing down hard on the Outsider's cock. His mouth buried itself in the crook of the Outsider's neck, teeth biting flesh. "Sometimes I think you forget I know exactly what gets you off," he hissed against the Outsider's cool throat. Before the Outsider could get out a reply, Corvo's hand clamped down over his mouth, efficiently silencing him. Feverishly, Corvo noted his palm covered his nose too – but it wasn't like the Outsider needed to breathe anyway, and stifling him fully like that, in a way that could've killed him had he been human, made a dark feeling of utter lustful power flash through Corvo, made him think of slit throats spewing red hot blood, of viscera and the rush of sending a bolt through an enemy's skull. The Outsider's body lurched under him joyously. Feisty goddamn fucker.
Corvo's mouth had zeroed in on a spot on the Outsider's throat for a long, hard moment, had sucked fervently enough to pop blood vessels, to leave a bruise, but when he came back up for air, he saw the skin that his lips had been on had merely gone white for a moment, then regained some color – returned back to normal. Corvo growled angrily and tried again, right over the Outsider's jugular vein this time (where his jugular vein was if he did have one, if he indeed had need for veins and blood). Hungry, angry, teeth tasting flesh and sweat. This time he was sure he'd made a mark – but again there was nothing. "Challenging me, huh," he breathed and the Outsider chuckled under him, an impudent sound that went to Corvo's dick and his fists, one of which now clenched in the Outsider's hair. The Outsider was laughing and as Corvo pulled his head back, the laughter grew breathy and open-throated but did not abate – all the way until Corvo's hand, without warning, closed around the Outsider's cock and pumped hard.
"Aaah" was the sound the Outsider made and then Corvo's lips and teeth found his neck again. The laughter dissipated immediately, replaced by a smattering of needy moans. This time the mark Corvo's mouth left behind stayed; Corvo kissed two more greedily in quick succession. The Outsider was as taut as a bowstring under him, and when Corvo looked in his face the look on it made his knees filthily weak. There was a fine film of sweat on his otherwise so immaculate forehead, and his eyes locked on Corvo's greedily. Corvo allowed it. It took several seconds before the Outsider seemingly remembered what he'd been told about eye contact and looked away, and Void did it make Corvo feel hot and drunk to know he was causing that much slowdown in this unending mind. Corvo's mouth found a nipple for a moment and left it wet with spit, then moved to the other. Corvo's hand around the Outsider's cock was working hard and fast and the way his hips were stuttering below him and his legs were fucking kicking was driving Corvo absolutely wild.
The mark on Corvo's hand was spluttering out bursts of Void energy. It lit up in staccato flashes like a light bulb about to give out; Corvo couldn't see it, too busy letting his mouth tear at the Outsider's chest and throat, but he felt it, sharp, burning twinges hissing up his arm with every burst – not painful, no, but certainly exciting. Invigorating. The Outsider somehow found the strength in himself to lock eyes with Corvo again. His breath was quick and growing quicker still, his hips rolling up to meet Corvo's hands and Corvo was now grinning above him, eyes furiously happy. "Fuck, Corvo, I," the Outsider gasped, "I'm going to–" Corvo was nodding, mouth open in a breathy grin, ecstatic to know he'd timed his actions right, had gotten this goddamn god so out of his mind horny that it had taken but mere moments of actual friction to utterly unravel him. "Corvo," the Outsider yelped, gasped, and Corvo could feel it, both of them could, could feel the Outsider's muscles tensing, tensing, his eyes rolling shut again, until he finally he--
Corvo removed his hand, leaned back. The Outsider spasmed under him, a long, wordless whine escaping from his mouth, bucking, dick twitching red and close, so damn close. Corvo drank the spectacle in with utter delight. The Outsider's hips stuttered out another weak attempt and a sliver of precum dripped out of the Outsider's cock – but that was all. Only when the Outsider's breathing had calmed down a bit, when his muscles had relaxed did Corvo dare to move. He was pretty sure if he'd touched the man's elbow that would've been enough to tip him all the way over the edge. So he waited patiently. The Outsider's eyes opened at last. His hair was a sweaty mess.
"Fuck," the Outsider said, voice trembling. There was an edge to his words, like he was getting ready to be offended. He clearly had more to say – but he did not get any further because Corvo took that simple word as his cue to spring right back into action. His hand already knew where to go. The moment it made contact once again the Outsider's eyes rolled closed and his head rolled back with a garbled cross between a swear and a drawn-out, desperately yelled moan. This time, Corvo was putting his all into it. His hand a piston, merciless. And, Void, he was getting into it himself. His dick was hard as a fucking rock. He pressed himself against the Outsider's, his own erection swathed in fabric, the Outsider's naked and exposed. Wouldn't be long now, the Outsider was so fucking close. Corvo buried his face in his neck, teeth scratching cold flesh, beard stubble scraping over sweaty skin, his hair falling over the Outsider's face. The Outsider was whining now. Words fell out his mouth like coins – "fuck", "gods", and over and over again that eternal refrain of "Corvo", "Corvo", "Corvo". Corvo breathed into his ear, his breath hot, promising, egging him on. This time he was gonna do it. This time he was going to let him cum.
"gods– right there– right there—" the Outsider pleaded.
"That's it– good boy good boy come for me⸺" The Outsider's back arched upwards. Corvo's fingers clamped around the base of his cock. The Outsider bucked up, desperately, straining against the rope around his wrists, he was shouting now, frustration, indignation spilling over when his cock couldn't, he was bucking so hard, trying futilely to come but Corvo's grip was unrelenting. The Outsider fell back and yelled something that sounded suspiciously like "fuck, Attano", bucked up again – still nothing. Corvo could read his face like a book – Void, he'd really thought this would've been the one. He'd really believed it. The poor thing. But this time, the offended, pitiable surprise on the Outsider's face did not simply fade into needful begging. Corvo saw the Outsider's brows furrow and he felt the storm coming. This time, his desperation had fully boiled over into anger. "Attano," the Outsider snarled. He was blushing down to his chest. His skin was covered in a fine, translucent layer of sweat. His face was full of utterly desperate fury. "I am going to skin you alive, I'm going to boil the blood in your veins and hang you by your own stinking entrails I am going to tear the eyes out of your skull and I'm going to make you eat them."
Corvo, who was getting up and wiping his hands, replied nonplussedly: "Do it then. Blink out of the ropes. Tear me apart."
A pause. Corvo calmly watched the Outsider from afar. A very long moment crept by, a moment during which the Outsider looked so furious that, in spite of the calm airs he was putting on, Corvo actually felt an icy whisper fear trickle down his neck like a bead of sweat. Fear that the Outsider was genuinely going to do it.
Pause. Nothing. "Thought so."
The Outsider's head fell back and he sighed, long and shuddering. His body twitched futilely. His cock was deeply red and shiny and the arc it cut into the bedroom air was utterly obscene. (Corvo's dick, meanwhile, was quite nearly pulsating in his pants.)
Corvo waited a good minute or so, maybe more, time was all sorts of fucked up for him. Just looking at the utter mess of a body on his bed was making him dizzy. He had himself another nice glass of water instead. Watched the Outsider calm down. He was considering the ice in his glass – considering what might be done with it. At last he set it aside. Maybe later, maybe some other time.
He meandered to a window and opened it; the cool breeze felt wonderful against his sweaty skin. Outside, evening had decidedly fallen. He wouldn't be able to keep the window open for long, the nights were cold still, but for now the evening breeze it let in was nice and refreshing. He thought about the sounds they were making, and wondered how far they'd carry over the city. Hopefully with the window open the High Overseer might hear them all the way in his cushy little office. The guards outside Corvo's apartment could most likely actually hear them, Corvo thought and smirked. That was fine, they knew to keep their mouths shut, that was what he hired them for after all. And if they didn't want to have to hear a lot of strange shit through closed doors they really should've chosen a different career path.
When he returned to the Outsider he was gentle and slow. Careful. The Outsider's legs parted between Corvo's hands like a flock of sheep around a rock. Too broken to offer up any resistance. This time Corvo's hands were joined by a warm mouth, on the Outsider's thighs first, tasting the sweat. The Outsider's muscles contracted and quivered under his lips. Corvo could vaguely make out that the Outsider's head was still lying back, completely relaxed, utterly defeated. His breath was shuddering. Fuck, what a piece of art this man was. By the time he finally got around to putting his mouth on the Outsider's cock – hard as steel and such an angry shade of red it bordered on being purple – the Outsider was making the most pathetic little sounds Corvo had ever heard. Sounds that weren't quite ready to be a sob but were most certainly too weak and far too pleading to be a moan. When he took him into his mouth, took him down his throat as far as he could (which was honestly not very far, Corvo had not had all that much practice at this kind of thing) the Outsider had graduated back to full-on moans.
Corvo's rhythm was slow and steady. The Outsider had surrendered himself completely to him. It wouldn't take long now – after two failed attempts he could've probably brought him to climax by the touch of a feather (hm, another avenue they might have to explore some day...). The Outsider was moaning so loudly Corvo was now fully convinced the guards could hear him. An inquisitive, well-lubed finger pressed into the Outsider's ass; the rope hadn't been the only thing Corvo had procured for the evening. The Outsider clenched up momentarily at the sensation. Corvo waited patiently until he'd relaxed again, then he pressed on. Gliding right in. The Outsider had given up even the most basic resemblance of resistance. A second finger joined the first readily and to nothing but a hitched kind of sigh from the Outsider, only disturbing his otherwise steady flow of moans for a moment. His knees had come up beside Corvo's head. After a few movements of his hand Corvo noticed them pressing down on his sides, narrowing in on him in order to trap him there. Before they could actually do so though, Corvo removed his mouth from the Outsider's cock. He delighted at the frustrated and utterly filthy noise it prompted from the Outsider.
Corvo crawled up the Outsider's body, letting his leg press against the Outsider's cock, against his ass, who in turn pressed against him gladly, hips rolling against Corvo's thigh. When he kissed the Outsider, it was with the knowledge that he'd taste himself on Corvo's lips and that sent a shiver of excitement down Corvo's spine. The Outsider's legs had entirely clamped around Corvo now like some kind of incredibly pathetic crab, trying to hold him in place while he was fucking against the outside of Corvo's pants (almost fucking against Corvo's own erection, even though he didn't acknowledge it). Corvo was considering telling him off – rutting against him like that felt damn close to a punishable level of insubordination. But on the other hand, he thought as he bit the Outsider's lower lip hard enough it would've drawn blood from anyone else, he was feeling pretty fucking good about it – about eliciting this level of desperation from a god. The little pleading sentence fragments were back, dropping from the Outsider's lips, only partially decipherable. He was very close.
"Keep your voice down," Corvo drawled against his ear, teeth considering the flesh there for a moment, then moving on to his neck, "or do you want the guards to hear?"
"Fuck, Corvo," the Outsider panted in return. Corvo grinned against his neck, deep and dark.
The words were coming fast to Corvo's lips now, hot and feverish. "Do you want them to hear, is that it? Shall I invite them in?" The Outsider shuddered wildly under him in response.
Corvo's hand had snuck between them again, had found its way back to the Outsider's cock, pressing it against his own erection. He was milking entirely new sounds out of the Outsider, pathetic little mewling sounds. Corvo moved himself downwards a bit, away from the Outsider's face to get a better grip on his cock. Having to leave his position right over the Outsider's utterly delicious facial expressions was a bit disappointing, but at least this new one gave him the opportunity to slide some fingers into him again, which Corvo did with pleasure. He knew that if he angled them correctly, pushed a little bit deeper,...
"Corvo, please--" a hard gasp suddenly interrupted the Outsider's begging let Corvo know he'd hit his target. It was immediately followed up by "oh fuck- right–" and an absolutely filthy moan, and then by "right there please".
"All the power of the void and yet you beg me." Corvo was feeling drunk and wild. There was some dark humor to be found in how easily words were coming to him now, and how much the Outsider couldn't manage to string together even the simplest of sentences. "Where are your threats now? Come on, beg for it then, beg."
The Outsider was bucking under him, "gods Void fuck Corvo please let me–" his voice was convulsing almost, stumbling all over itself, "please oh fuck pleasepleaseplease fuck", Corvo's hand on his cock tireless and merciless, his fingers in his ass, curling right into his prostrate. "Right there Corvo Corvo⸺"
Three things happened at once. The Outsider came with a scream, cum shooting from his cock in a exhilarating arc and painting his stomach, almost reaching his chest. Corvo's mark flashed like a exploding light bulb with a flare of magical energy so bright it momentarily blinded him. The Void exploded around them.
Corvo, disorientated, held his grip on the Outsider's cock with the desperation of a drowning man clinging onto a life ring, the pace of his strokes confused and thrown off for a moment but somehow still continuing, determined to work the Outsider through the entirety of his orgasm until he could no more, Void be damned. The Outsider's entire body shuddered and a long groan escaped his lips as his hips jerked up one last time, weakly. A final dribble of cum ran down his cock. The Outsider fell back on the bed. Corvo's movements finally stalled.
When Corvo's fingers slid out of him, the Outsider gasped a small, shaking breath in. Corvo looked around them, his mind feeling hot and fuzzy, and found himself staring into the Void. Their shared bed was a floating life-raft in a sea of mist and rocks and eternal nothingness. A decorative vase floated by. Corvo watched it with mad fascination as it slowly drifted into the fog. The Outsider groaned.
Corvo leaned down and pressed a kiss to the Outsider's chest. It was shiny with sweat. Deciding to let the Void be the Void and worry about his own issues, he cradled the Outsider's head with a hand. The Outsider's eyes were closed. Small shudders still racked him.
It took a good long while for the Outsider to fully ride out the aftershocks of his orgasm. Corvo, patient as ever, had no issue with waiting, and in fact every little shudder and gasp was another wave of drunken pleasure through him, relishing in the knowledge that this had all been his own doing. Finally the Outsider was still. Happy. The dumbest look of pleasure Corvo had ever seen on him blooming on his blushed face.
Corvo pressed a kiss against the underside Outsider's jawline, the Outsider purring out a content hum in return. Another kiss, this time just below his collarbone. One more to the rise of his nipple, then one where his pectoral muscles gave way to the rippling of his ribs. Steadily down, down, down.
Down to his cock, soft and red and oh so sensitive.
The Outsider, absolutely drunk with orgasm, realized far too late what was happening. Corvo's lips closed themselves around his soft cock. Sucked it in, hard and merciless. The Outsider, a jolt of pain ripping through him, let out of a yelp. "No no no don't Corvo stop Corvo," his voice quick and panicking, words falling over themselves. His knees had shot up, he was pulling his legs up, trying to curl up, to protect himself, but Corvo was faster, and stronger. He sat up, pressing the Outsider's thighs down with his knees, one strong hand pushing his hips down, subduing their desperate bucking attempts to throw him off. His other hand closed around the Outsider's softening cock. "Oh fuck," the Outsider said to nobody in particular and then Corvo's lips were back on his oversensitive cock and this time he yelled, "FUCK", then his swears became unintelligible, just primal sounds of desperation. He tasted like salt and sweat and the distant, eternal sea. Corvo could almost feel the nerves laying raw under his skin, every stroke of his mouth a firestorm of overstimulation that shot through the Outsider and made his entire body jump. He was pleading, kicking, but Corvo kept going, going, the Outsider quite nearly screaming, begging for mercy in a language Corvo did not understand, had never heard before, a language long dead, spoken eons ago when the world had still been young. He was writhing under Corvo in quick panicked bursts, using every available limb and muscle to try to stop him, but he was no match against Corvo's weight.
Corvo removed his mouth from his cock and replaced it with his hand. He was deliberate and precise now, making quick sharp movements, focusing on the head of his cock. (Where it hurts the most, some sick voice hissed, full of pleasure, in the back of his mind.) "One more," Corvo purred and the Outsider's eyes were wide and wet with tears, his face shiny with sweat. The Outsider's entire body was convulsing. He was shaking his head wildly, a marionette dancing on insane strings, and his knuckles stood out bone-white on the back of his clenched hands.
"Please Corvo no please I can't," his voice was hitching high, "Corvo stop". There was panic in his voice, sheer and outright, he was truly begging now, fully debased. Corvo did not take no for an answer.
"Didn't you listen? What you want or what think you can do doesn't fucking matter. I want one more." Void the Outsider looked unbelievably gorgeous when he was desperate. It was taking Corvo's entire body weight now to keep him from bucking him off.
"Please I can't please–" The Outsider's pleas were less focused now, an abstract mantra, quietly they kept going, "please". Corvo's hand had slowed to accommodate him a bit and every time his hand brushed over the head of his cock, slick with cum and sweat and spit, the Outsider's legs tried to jolt under Corvo and his entire body jumped and another weak "please" spilled out of his mouth. Corvo kept going. Slowly the Outsider seemed to accept his fate. His eyes glazed over. He was looking into Corvo's face as if into a deep pool, and the sounds he was making had turned from moans to just guttural, desperate whines, in agony and pleasure, some soft consonants falling out of his mouth here and there but no more words left in him but "Corvo" and "please" and "I can't". Corvo's pace was slower now but mercilessly constant.
Time distorted around the two of them. The Void swirled and billowed. The Outsider whimpered with every stroke, sometimes his feet kicked and jumped, and Corvo simply persisted. He'd never seen the Outsider like this, ever, even in all their time sharing a bed together, and it was utterly exhilarating. Seeing this god so fully broken. It took an indeterminable amount of time – minutes, centuries – until the Outsider started taking in larger breaths, deeper, like he was preparing to yell to the other side of the Wrenhaven, and the pained wretched sounds he was making were finally getting louder and louder, and Corvo knew what was coming. The Outsider had started speaking in that language Corvo didn't understand again, but Corvo could understand his body and his body was being pretty fucking clear.
It was taking all of Corvo's strength to keep the Outsider from bucking him off now, he was back to kicking and bucking and twisting under him with all his might – and there was a lot of might in him, all the might of the eternal Void. What the Outsider did not have left anymore were words however, just formless cries of panic, pain and pleasure; his back was fully arching up off the bed, his head was thrown back, his hands spasming in their rope bonds. The thought rushed through Corvo's head that if this was anyone else he'd honestly have stopped right there because in anyone else he would've feared their heart was about to give out. Then the Outsider's hips bucked up so hard Corvo was thrown off balance but somehow, through sheer willpower and luck, his hand managed to keep going and the Outsider screamed, screamed, unrestrained, and hot, white cum shot from his cock and splattered his already stained chest, the front of Corvo's shirt too, the Outsider's scream faltering into sobbing, gasping breaths, ragged, another spurt, he was crying, good lord another rope of cum was shooting from his cock, Corvo was amazed and hungry and in so much fucking love. Finally the Outsider collapsed. Corvo let him.
Corvo settled around the Outsider. The position felt awkward to him but probably didn't even register to the Outsider, who was continuing to shudder and gasp, the aftermath of the second orgasm rolling through him like aftershocks after an especially vicious earthquake. Corvo made sure not to touch his cock. It was twitching, and with every pulse a quiver went through the Outsider's body. Around them, the Void was slowly receding. A still discordant bedroom reassembling itself piece by piece.
Corvo's hand tentatively began to gently comb through the Outsider's hair. It was slick with sweat, and strands stood up at insane angles. The Outsider let out an exhausted moan under his touch. Corvo kissed his temple softly in reply. Making sure he didn't touch him anywhere that would hurt, Corvo moved up to undo the knots binding the Outsider's wrists. There were dark half-moon imprints on the Outsider's palms where his fingernails had dug into the flesh, and when he slipped the rope from his wrists he saw it had left deep marks around them. Corvo stroked the soft skin around them with love and wonder. He was smiling, warm inside. The Outsider had closed his eyes.
Corvo brushed a soft hand over his chest. This tiny thing, this fragile body – ribs and edges and pointy bones – Corvo loved him, so deeply, he really did. His scarred fingers ghosted over the Outsider's pale skin like a soft summer breeze. Corvo's mark – no, the Outsider's mark, stood black and strong on the back of Corvo's hand. Corvo had marked the Outsider himself this time around – bruising marks left by his mouth dotted the Outsider's neck and chest and he pondered them as his own marked hand brushed around their edges. Signs of ownership. Wedding rings made flesh. He felt such a strange, fierce protectiveness over him – over this boy, this man, this god - this cosmic, unending, unknowable being – and really, all it was when it came down to it was love, so deep and strong as to threaten to drown him.
Corvo's fingers touched a nipple and the Outsider's back arched, not tight and desperate now but like the natural curve of a bowing branch, gentle and slow. His mouth sighed out a low and drawn-out moan, eyes closed. Corvo let his hand rest there. Let the Outsider come back to his senses as slowly as he needed to. He didn't want to torture him, didn't want to hurt to him – not anymore. The room was shifting and waving around them in a warm and drunken way, flecks of Void and real-world furniture intertwined. Most of reality was back in its place already, but the Void hadn't left them fully, not ready to depart entirely just yet.
The Outsider took a deep breath, let it out with a soft groan. Blinking. Eyes slowly starting to focus again. His face was flushed a bright and lovely pink. "Good boy," Corvo whispered and the Outsider laughed a tiny, exhausted laugh in response, shifting to face Corvo more, shuddering and twitching and sucking in small sharp breaths at every bit of sensation against his soft and overworked cock. He pulled his hands down for the first time since Corvo'd bound them, and they both marveled at the marks the rope had left of them.
"Thank you, Attano," the Outsider said, his throat audibly a slight bit hoarse. Corvo chuckled. They kissed again, deeply. Drifting in the pleasure together. The room was slowly putting itself fully back together around them.
Corvo sat up with care. A small, final pocket of Void dissipated under the edge of the bed as he put his foot down on the carpet. The room looked entirely normal again. The Outsider, slow, shaky and fucked out to hell and back, managed to follow him, sitting up somewhat as well. His arms coming to rest on Corvo's shoulders, fingers interlacing behind his head. The marks on his wrists deep and dark and wondrous.
"Do you... would like something to drink?" Corvo offered, kind of hesitantly. "Can I get you anything? A blanket, even?" It's what he'd do with a human partner after all, a human would need some water, a warm shower, some ointment possibly – but the Outsider wasn't human.
"Corvo," the Outsider said, his fingers brushing against the side of Corvo's throat, sensing the heartbeat there, strong and steady. He was smiling, eyes mostly closed. He leaned in to Corvo's neck and inhaled. A cold lip lolled over Corvo's neck, under his chin, dragging lazily. Corvo hummed a gentle tone. "Corvo Attano," the Outsider continued. "I wasn't expecting this when I gave you my mark. You know I only grant it to the most interesting people – but even among their ranks, none of them can hold a candle to you." His hand, its fingers long and cool and still a bit shaky, only slowly re-familiarizing themselves with having this much freedom of movement, carded through Corvo's hair. "I gave you my mark because you had been broken in every way and I was curious to see what would happen if I took a man like that broke him further." He huffed a little amused breath against Corvo's throat. "I can't say this was an outcome I was anticipating."
"Glad I've been entertaining."
The Outsider moved forward and faced Corvo, and looked him in the eye. His face was flushed. Fucked out. He smiled a little grin so earnest it made Corvo's heart ache with love. "Attano, Attano, the Void will sing your name for all eternity."
Corvo, who prided himself on his poker face, actually felt a bit of a blush creep into his own cheeks in response. It took him a while to find his words again. "So do you need anything or not?" he asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject and flinched internally at just how awkward that had come out. Void, he'd never been good at these sorts of things. Not with Jessamine, not now. The Outsider chuckled.
"Stay with me for a while longer, would you?"
"Forever, if you need me to."
"Now who's the one that's bringing up eternity?"
"Void... Let me close the window first, it's getting chilly."
The Outsider made a soft "mmh" of agreement. Corvo went to close the window. It was dark outside now. The air was cold and clear. Where the harbor met the ocean, the lamp-glow of the city gave way to the eternal black of night. The ships coming in from sea with their myriad of lights looked like tiny clusters of stars, dancing and bobbing out on the dark void of the ocean. Corvo shut and hatched the window, and when he turned away from it the Outsider was looking at him, his eyes as black and deep as the nocturnal sea.
"Dear," the Outsider said.
"My love," Corvo replied.
"Next time bring those knives you were thinking of."
"Mmh. So you do bleed?"
"Perhaps I will," the Outsider said and his lips perked up into a little flirtatious smile. "If you try hard enough."
"I'll do my best," Corvo replied and joined him on the bed. The night was cold and black outside. Bruises bloomed on the Outsider's neck like violets. Corvo pressed a soft kiss on one and the Outsider hummed under his touch like a glass struck with a fork, long and happy and exhausted. "Y' did great today."
The Outsider turned his head a bit and reciprocated Corvo's kiss, his mouth calm and steady, a cool breeze on a hot summer day. "Thank you. So did you." The Outsider smiled, loving and warm. "Make me beg some more next time, will you?"
"Will do."
When Corvo awoke the next morning, the Outsider was still there next to him, curled up alongside him as if he'd always belonged there. Corvo stayed there, looking at him, for a long while. When he'd get to court Emily and all the others would joke and riff on him, on oh so punctual Corvo, for being late and he'd have to come up with some excuse or another – but that was then. For now all he was was a man in love. And for now that was entirely enough.