Chapter Text
"I have to piss, get off of me." Mikhael says, brow pinched in his embarrassment. He likely wouldn't last if he were to continue this and then try to go afterwards.
Siwa gets a wicked little look in his eyes, but his expression betrays conflicted embarrassment himself. Mikhael knows that look, and his own eyes narrow a touch. "Get up." Mikhael says again, and Siwa leans forward, hair draping across Mikhael's chest as he leans in a bit, watching Mikhael carefully as his hands trail over the prince's collar bones, down his sides. His hips sit squarely against Mikhael's and should he decide to rock them, it would easily press against the other's bladder.
"I was thinking..."
"Siwa..." A warning.
"No, I am serious. Please listen. Y-you don't have to say yes, but..." His voice trails off, he's blushing. Normally he takes exactly what he wants, and then asks permission. But this request has the brunette nervous. "A week ago..." 6 days, to be exact. Siwa had counted. He'd not forgotten, and likely would find it difficult to do so. He'd jerked off so hard to the imagery that he's sure he'll never cum so hard again in his life. "A week ago, we went to the tavern in town and you had a few drinks. That night after the royals from Pavengard came. You were drunk, Mikhael, and could not make it to our chambers. You, in desperation, relieved yourself against a pillar in the courtyard. Even in the darkness of the fading light, I will never forget the image of your relief. The blush on your cheeks and your mouth parted so sweetly." Siwa's blushing heavily now, his hands distracting themselves by trailing across Mikhael's stomach. "I wish to see that side of you once more. To bring you that kind of relief. You were so beautiful like that, and the desperation as we walked back together...."
Mikhael is unsure how to answer that. He barely recalls the memory, and Siwa's retelling of it has his ears turning scarlet. But something about the way Siwa seems almost bashful about it, and the way he describes it, has his dick giving an interested twitch. Curse his body, and what Siwa has done to him. "Fine." Is all he says, but they both know that it's more than enough consent. Mikhael is not often quite so vocal about his wishes, and would simply shove Siwa off of him if he truly did not want whatever direction they go with this.
"Beautiful." Siwa coos, voice soft but it trembles despite itself. He wants this so badly. Wants to see Mikhael come undone in ways he's only dreamed of. Ways that creep into his sleep visions and wake him up with throbbing pain. "Can you hold out for me?" His voice grows an edge, growing dominant as confidence seeps into him. "Do you think you can wait for me? Be a good boy? Let me cum first? Then I'll stay inside of you and jerk you to whichever completion greets you first. Do you think you can do that, for me? My beautiful boy, my sweet prince?"
Mikhael inhales a sharp breath. This golden boy will surely be the death of him. He'd do near anything Siwa asked of him, and he hates himself for it. Hates the way this man controls him, and the way it sends electric jolts up his spine to be loved by Siwa. "Yes." He hisses anyway, on command, like he's been trained for it. Maybe he has. "Please." He adds, satisfied with the way a single word has Siwa trembling. He sometimes can't help himself when it comes to maintaining that control.
"Perfect for me." Siwa says, shifting his hips back so he can fit between Mikhael's legs and lean into him for a kiss. "So perfect." He repeats, lips moving to bite at his collar. He's never been particularly interested in it, but the way his bites make Mikhael jolt under him does something feral to his mind. "All mine. I cannot believe I get to have this all to myself. Have you. Gods, I do not deserve you." A laugh bubbles from Siwa, and one of his hands moves down to stroke Mikhael's dick. "Like you were made for me."
"Let me in, my darling." He whispers, sitting back to spread oil over his fingers. They shake with the anticipation. There is nothing he loves more than being able to share these moments with Mikhael, and to take control. Especially this kind of control, if Mikhael will allow himself to relinquish it.
Mikhael is quiet as Siwa enters him, their hips flush together at last. Gods, he feels full in ways he'd never imagined. Each slow drag of Siwa's impatient hips presses against his bladder and his prostate all in one and he genuinely doesn't know if he'll cum or piss first. He isn't sure which he'd rather. "Wait-" He blurts, throwing his arms around Siwa's neck and yanking him down to hide his face. "Slow. It's... different." He murmurs. Mikhael is sure that he'll die of embarrassment tonight between these sheets with Siwa, yet there's no one else on earth he'd trust more with this side of himself. He wants this, so bad. His body betraying himself when he rolls his hips into Siwa's.
"Do you like that? Can you feel me, filling you?" Siwa asks, and grins a wicked smile when Mikhael just groans in response. A hand moves and presses against Mikhael's bladder, gratified in the sharp inhalation from the other. "How long have you been holding this? Do you want to let go, Mikhael? You don't have to hold on for me, but oh I hope you will. I want you to piss yourself while I fuck you. I want you soaked in it while I cum deep inside of you-" His hips rock into Mikhael, punctuating his words. He can't help himself. He's turning himself on with his dirty talk. "You're made for me, fuck, Mikhael, you're so beautiful like this. I wish that you could view yourself the way I do. Are you close? Are you going to piss or cum on me? Make a mess of our bed? Because you could not hold yourself? You'd like that? Having me fuck the piss right out of you? Can you feel me? Feel how deep I am inside of you? Gods, you're so tight like this. Are you enjoying yourself?"
Mikhael has no words, only grunts and whines that, were he in any other position, would kill him on the spot in embarrassment. But here? Now? With Siwa murmuring these lewd thoughts to him, biting him and raking his nails down his sides? It's all Mikhael can do not to moan like a whore. Which, honestly, he's failing a bit at. His hands clench, nails biting into Siwa's skin, but this does not slow the sunshine boy. If anything, Siwa's hips snap faster and harder into him. They're beginning to lose rhythm, and Mikhael realizes with some gratification that whatever this is, it's doing something for Siwa. The other man is losing his composure in record speed.
"Fuck, Siwa." He groans, lip twitching in satisfaction when Siwa's hips jerk and he hears a grunt from the other. No matter how Siwa tries to dominate him, he's weak against Mikhael's words. This must be what love feels like. "I can't-" He whines, body shaking with the near frantic thrusts of his lover. And Mikhael realizes that maybe Siwa is right. He doesn't know whether he'll cum or piss first. He takes himself in hand only for his wrist to be smacked away.
"Let me bring you there." Siwa growls out, hand moving in time with his erractic thrusts. "I'm going to fill you up, Mikhael. Make you mine, feel you clench around me as you make a mess. Don't you want that? Don't you want to be my good boy and cum for me?"
He should be mortified at the way his body reacts to Siwa's words, but he can't find the braincell left to think as his orgasm slams into him without warning. With a soft cry, it's over for Mikhael. White floods his vision and he's distantly aware that he's repeating Siwa's name like a mantra as he cums between them.
"Good boy, so good, so perfect." Siwa repeats over and over to him as he jackrabbits his hips into Mikhaels once, twice, three more times and then he's flooding Mikhael with cum. "Let it out." He murmurs, hand not stopping.
"Fuck, wait, please- I can't-" Mikhael's words tumble out before his mind really has a moment to process them at all. Siwa's hand is pressing down hard against his bladder now, like he knows exactly what he's doing - and he does. "You-" and that's it. It's over and he's pissing. Mikhael throws an arm over his face to hide behind, his ears and neck turning scarlet as it rushes out of him. There's no warning, and he's helpless to stop himself as it pools over his stomach and runs in rivulets down his chest. But gods -- gods above and below it feels so good. It feels like his orgasm has been pulled from him as a neverending river of pleasure.
Siwa's hips don't stop, despite the fact that the other man has already cum once. "Fuck, Mikhael. Holy shit, gods, you're beautiful. Let it out, good boy, so good." He repeats, over and over as he keeps rocking into him, eyes rolled back from the pleasure of being inside of Mikhael while he does this.
Everything feels so slow, like molasses, as Mikhael continues. He doesn't protest as Siwa fills him for a second time. Or when Siwa's hands roam across the wetness on his chest. God, he should feel disgusting. Filthy, even. But he doesn't. He feels more relaxed than he ever has, and he's sure that this memory and the mortification will catch up.... maybe? But it feels so good. The loss of control and power and everything just so languid. Siwa above him, stroking his hair back and helping call him back down to earth. Distantly, he's peeved that Siwa would stroke his hair with his piss covered fingers, but he just pulls the other down into a ravenous kiss and murmurs "clean me up,,, please."
Siwa moves, legs shaky as he collects the sheets and blankets into a pile. His face is bright red and his mind struggles to catch up with the horny thoughts that have ruled his actions.
"So-"
"Your thoughts are running away from you, Siwa." Mikhael says, rolling to his side to watch Siwa. His skin is sticky and, truthfully, he does feel quite disgusting like this. But his mind keeps replaying the way Siwas face looked when he felt Mikhael pissing. The way Siwa started desperately jackhammering his hips into him because he couldn't chase the high fast enough. The way Siwas whole body tensed up as he shook apart with his orgasm.
"Siwa." Mikhael exhales as he sits up in the bed. He tries not to look at the large, glaring wet spot. He did that. And he can't even find the shame necessary to be mortified about it. He liked it. "Siwa, come here."
Siwa purses his lips, nervous, and approaches the bed. "I am sorry, Mikhael. I was very bold and the idea of seeing you like that... i-"
"Shut up." He doesn't mean it to sound so harsh, so he repeats it softly as he reaches for Siwas hands. His own face is burning red now too. "I enjoyed it, Siwa."
"What?"
"I will not repeat myself. Now, throw the sheets out. I will place new ones down."
"You... liked it..."
"That is what i said, is it not? Siwa. I enjoyed myself. While it was not something I would have planned myself, I am glad to have engaged in that with you. If it is something that you wish to try again, I would not be opposed. Just! Not on our bed. I need those sheets burned and buried - if the servants saw the mess.... no. We will do that elsewhere next time."
"Next time..." Siwa is still standing there looking dumbfounded before a grin spreads across his face. "My gods, Mikhael. I- I mean- that is wonderful. Really! Is there anything in particular that you enjoyed? We could try other ideas..."