Love and Dragons

Outside, Gautier gestured with no small amount of pride to his Porsche. It was flashy, it was completely gay, but so was he. Like a real gentleman, Gautier opened the passenger door for his date, making sure Mol was settled in before he got in himself. The engine purred to life, and Gautier purred along with it, loving his car despite exactly how queer it made him look. “I hope you don't mind a bit of a drive. Where we're going is a ways out of town.”

"I don't mind a drive," Mol said with a smile. Truthfully, he really didn't, but unless Mol was at least a little occupied with something, long car rides turned into every single dial, knob, and button being messed with in one way or another. It was a blessing that Mol was currently sidetracked with his handsome date.



No comment was made about the car, though if Lukah had caught a glimpse of it there would have been an immediate derogatory comment. Having no car of his own, and relying on whoever was available to give him rides to work and whatnot, Mol had no objection to the obviously flamboyant car. To him, cars only came in a few categories. Ridiculous, expensive, and jalopy, and as it turned out, he was fine with all three.



Making himself comfortable in his seat, Mol took in his date. It wasn't often that someone like Gautier came around and asked him out. Gautier was so much more... groomed than any of his ex boyfriends had been, and he couldn't hide the excited smile that a legitimate date brought to his lips. "Aren't you supposed to be at work, still?" he asked. Of course, Mol knew the answer to that. Gautier had indeed left early to come and see him, but Mol, being in no politer way of saying it, was a whore for attention, and hearing it from Gautier's lips would only make him feel all the more important.

Gautier was a very safe driver, but he had to admit that only half his attention was on the road. He could feel Mol looking at him, and it made him want to preen. “I left early. I couldn't focus, anyway. I've been thinking about you all day.” He smiled at Mol and reached across the car to lay one hand on his thigh, being a little bold by leaving it there a while. “I think I wrecked a model's hair completely, but she doesn't know enough about hair to tell. You're a goddamn distraction.”



The longer he drove, the further they got from the multitude of lights, other cars, and loud noises. In the rural land outside the city, things were pretty isolated. The sun was starting to get lower, cooling down the air. Gautier rolled down the windows in the car to let in some of that lovely breeze, for once not irritated when the wind ruffled his hair. It was artfully tousled anyway. The wind couldn't really hurt it.

The admission that Gautier had been distracted by him all day was exactly what Mol was looking for. The smile on his mouth widened, and his chest puffed out a bit with pride. Gautier's hand on his thigh was indeed bold, and Mol didn't quite feel at such a personal level with the man as to put his hand over his, though he was tempted. He didn't, however, make any move to dislodge it. It was a comfortable weight where it lay, and regardless, the simple intimacy of it made Mol tingle.



"I had dreams about you," Mol confessed as Gautier opened the windows. "...You were yelling at me about my hair. I had gum in it again." Leaning back in his seat, his nostrils flared slightly as he took in the scent of the approaching night. Fresh air, grass, and the underlying scent of Gautier that tingled pleasantly in his nose. A few tresses of his hair escaped their confines to whip about his face, and he pushed them back reflexively. The night was already turning out to be a gorgeous one, and they hadn't even arrived at their destination.

After a short, but comfortable pause, Mol glanced at Gautier again. Gautier, who was so well primped and groomed, who was popular with an entirely different kind of crowd than Mol, and looked to appreciate the finer things in life. "How come you asked me out?" he asked. "I mean you probably have a ton of models and shit falling at your feet, and you asked the idiot with the gum stuck in his hair out on a date."

Gautier chuckled softly over the contents of Mol's dream. He was pleased just to be involved in those dreams, regardless of what he was doing in them. That question made his smile turn more thoughtful. Molocai wasn't the type of man that would travel in the same circles as Gautier and his associates. Far from it. But he was charming, and his spirit refreshed Gautier constantly. It was wonderful. “I asked you out because...you are not shallow, and your head is not completely empty. You see more to me than who I can introduce you to, where I can take you, and what I can do for you. Also, you are stunning to look at, and your sweetness is charming.” He paused, considering, then added, “And you made my dick harder than it's been in years, so I figured it was in my best interest to court you.”



Gautier turned down a nicely kept gravel road, signs proclaiming this the way to the county fairgrounds. It wasn't long before Gautier could faintly hear the sounds of excited chatter, shrieks of laughter, and tinny carnival music. He pulled in at the rather packed parking lot and stopped the car, trying not to be completely diva by parking far from the other cars. He just prayed that no one scratched or dented his precious baby. “Here we are. The carnival. You don't mind, do you?” Since it was beginning to get dark, the lights on the booths and rides were even more brilliant and colorful. All in all, it looked like fun, and there was practically no chance of them running into anyone he knew.

Satisfied with Gautier's answer, and completely amused by the honest response, Mol nodded. "Those are good reasons," he agreed, though he offered no explanation as to why he had let Gautier take him out.



As soon as the carnival was in sight, Mol perked up. It wasn't the type of place he'd expected Gautier to take him. In fact, he'd guessed they'd be going to some kind of posh restaurant where he'd have to sit still and drink wine and converse like a normal person. He was delighted to find the situation otherwise. Gautier certainly knew how to surprise, and Mol liked that.



"The carnival? I don't mind at all!" Mol leaned forward in his seat, already excited and ready to leap out of the car. "I haven't been to the carnival in years! I didn't even know there was one around!"

“I'm glad I managed to surprise you.” He got out of the car and came around to Mol's side, opening the door. “Don't run off, there's lots to do. We can stay as long as you like.” Gautier had plans already, and if everything went as expected, Mol would be showered with attention and presents by the end of the night. The scent of cheap but delicious carnival food teased his nose, so different from what he typically ate. “Are you hungry? I want popcorn.” Gautier took Mol's hand, lacing their fingers together on the way into the carnival.



He hadn't been kidding when he'd said there was a lot to do. Roller coasters and rides with clanging bells and flashing lights beckoned, carnies yelled about the games that they offered from their booths. All around, children dashed back and forth, mostly ignoring the cautions from their parents. Mol and Gautier weren't the only couple strolling around, and somehow that made Gautier feel very normal. It would be terribly easy to get sidetracked in all the noise, but since Gautier had a loose set of goals, he was trying to stay on task. “Food, then we'll hit some of the booths. And finish off the night with rides, alright?”

A grin came to Mol's face. He hadn't exactly planned on running off, but what with how excited he was, it was just something he might do. However, a warm hand and gentle fingers twining with his own reminded him that he had a very handsome and gentlemanly date with him, and that was certainly enough to keep him from bee-lining straight to the game booths. As soon as the smell of food assaulted his nose, Mol's stomach rumbled. Never one to turn down a meal, be it human or human food, Mol zeroed in on the one scent he'd weeded out from the menagerie of others. "I want a candy apple. And a funnel cake!" he announced. It just wasn't a carnival without both, and Mol had the exact food stand that was selling such sugary, carnival delicacies in sight. "Ok, let's go!" Like an excited kid, Mol more or less took off toward the commotion, Gautier in tow.

“Alright, alright. Although I'm sure sugar will only make you more difficult to control, against my better judgment, I'm going to get you want you want.” And he did. Mol got his funnel cake and candy apple, and Gautier got himself popcorn smothered in butter and a corn dog. When he was hungry, he could wolf down food as quickly as any man, though he somehow managed to be neat and tidy while finishing a corn dog in three bites. The popcorn proved more of a challenge, but only because Gautier had to constantly remind himself that it was unwise to stick out thirteen inches of tongue and snatch up kernels of popcorn a foot away, in a crowd of humans. He used his hands with his popcorn, though it wasn't half as much fun to eat it that way.

"Hey, who said I was difficult to control?" Mol asked, giving Gautier a playful nudge with his hip. Truth be told, Gautier was exactly right. Sugar had the same effect on Mol as it did on a 6 year old child- a massive hyperactive sugar rush, followed by the inevitable crash. By the time Gautier was on to his popcorn, Mol was licking powdered sugar and sticky red candy off of his lips and fingers, and he was proud that most of his treats had ended up in his mouth rather than on his shirt. The apple, however, did leave the inside of his mouth stained red, like a kid who had drank fruit punch that was mostly food dye. Gautier was still finishing his popcorn, and Mol eyed him with antsy impatience.

Gautier didn't take long to finish off his popcorn. He cleaned his hands on a napkin, disposed of all the trash, then examined his companion. “You are like a child,” he said with a sigh, leaning in to lick away the remains of the red candy around Mol's mouth. “No more sugar,” Gautier instructed, patting Mol on the cheek. “Shall we play some of the games now?” The nearest one was a ring-toss style game, the walls of the booth lined with dozens of stuffed animals of varying sizes and colors. The biggest of the animals was a stuffed dragon, sort of a dusty gray in color. Gautier smirked. “I'm going to win you that dragon, Molocai,” he announced, stepping up to the booth and taking some rings.



It was easy enough to win, since this booth seemed to be one of the rare ones that wasn't run by a cheater. Gautier pointed to which of the animals he wanted, and when the dragon was placed in his arms, he handed it to Mol. “Here.” He looked a touch shy then, as if the fact that this was a date had just become real.

“Am not, “ Mol countered. “If I were like a child, I’d have begged you for another candy apple.” He stole a little kiss from Gautier’s lips as he licked the candy away. Like the ever faithful companion, he stayed at Gautier’s side while he played at ring toss. It was a game Mol would have probably botched completely, since he usually had to compensate drastically because of his depth perception. He cheered when Gautier won.

The dragon stuffed animal was adorable, and Mol blushed across the bridge of his nose as he took it from Gautier and hugged it to his chest. Nearly a third the size as he was, it was the perfect size for hugging, and was soft and cuddly to top it off. It had shining silvery eyes and a pair of big, silvery wings with coal colored accents, which Mol smoothed down its back tenderly. “I think I’ll call him Gautier,” he announced, the smile on his face spreading into a wide grin. Leaning over, he kissed Gautier on the cheek. “Thank you, komea.”

“Appropriate,” Gautier said dryly at the stuffed dragon's appointed name. “Although there are some minor inaccuracies that should probably be addressed...” He touched the dragon and smiled, secretly pleased that a representation of himself would have a position of honor in Mol's bed around the clock. “What did you call me?” Gautier put an arm around Mol's shoulders and steered him toward the next booth. It was the type of game where you had to bounce a little ping pong ball into a cup. If done successfully, the prize was a goldfish. “I'm terribly unskilled at games of this nature,” Gautier said modestly, twirling one of Mol's curls around his finger. “You want to take a crack at it?”

Laughing at the comment about the inaccuracies, Mol had no idea that it had been made in the most literal sense. He knew Gautier wasn’t human, but having never encountered a dragon before, he had no idea just what Gautier was. Not that it really mattered. Mol didn’t discriminate when it came to anything. “I called you komea. Handsome. Because you are.” Putting an arm about Gautier’s waist, he allowed himself to be steered to the next game. It was now fully dark, and the carnival lights were turned up full blast, surrounding everything with a halo of high contrast color that Mol thought fit his mood rather appropriately.

They came upon the next game, and Mol let out a delighted noise. “Oooh, I’m good at these! “ he announced, pulling away from Gautier to take his place at the edge of the booth. And as it turned out, he was. All carnival games were rigged in some little way or another. The fun of them, Mol thought, was finding out what the catch was. In this one, it was the ping pong ball. It was weighted unevenly, thus making the most accurate toss fall short. As it just so happened, all Mol had to do was actually try to throw without trying to compensate for his covered eye, and the ball made it right into the middle cup every time. His reward was a shiny, fat goldfish in a little plastic bag. “Here. This is for you,” Mol said, proudly presenting Gautier with the goldfish. “He looks like a Pip. Or maybe a Donatello.”

“Pip is fine. Donatello is a bit of a weighty name for a goldfish.” Delighted by the compliment and the present, Gautier looked at his goldfish, prodding at the bottom of the bag. “He's quite plump. May I eat him?” As if he would eat a goldfish. But teasing was fun, and Gautier was grinning ear to ear. He hadn't been on a real date in years, since most of his romantic involvement tended to progress from 'hello' to fucking within an hour or so. But judging from this night, Gautier had been missing out.

“Pip it is then,” Mol agreed, then got a horrified look on his face when Gautier mentioned eating it. It faded in a moment though when he realized that Gautier was teasing. “No, you can’t eat him. What if he’s a magic goldfish?”



The next few hours were a blur of colors, lights, and sounds. They both won a few more stuffed animals and do-dads for each other, then went on a couple of rides. The last ride of the night was, of course, the Ferris wheel. High above the rest of the carnival, somewhat away from all the noise, Gautier gave Mol the sweetest little kiss he was capable of giving. It seemed more appropriate for the moment than a full-on snogging session, and it was satisfying in a different way.

As the night progressed, Mol found himself thoroughly enjoying Gautier’s company. Amidst the games and rides, they talked and shared stories, and laughed nearly the entire time. It was one of those rare times where Mol felt no need to put his guard up. Completely at ease with Gautier, it was a comfortable, quiet moment they shared on the Ferris wheel. With his stuffed dragon on the seat beside him, Mol sat hip to hip with Gautier, reveling in the sweet little kiss they shared. It made him blush all over to be kissed like that, something so gentle and sincere. Finding Gautier’s hand, he twined their fingers together and leaned on his shoulder. “This was really fun,” he said, still blushing. “Thanks for taking me out, Gautier.”

There were many things that Gautier wanted to say, sweet things, romantic things. But he couldn't settle on one. Molocai left him tongue-tied. Rather than stumble over words and making a fool of himself, Gautier decided to remain silent, squeezing Mol's hand. The ride ended too soon for Gautier. To be fair, he could have happily stayed up there all night.



He kept his hold on Mol's hand all the way back to the car, reluctant to let it go for even a minute. Finally, he had to, so they could load their respective treasures into the car and get in themselves. Gautier was happy to note that his car was free of scratches or dents, and seemed generally unmolested. “I'll take you home now.” It was late, and Gautier had to open the shop again in the morning. Luckily, it was a nice long drive back to Mol's place, so he could enjoy the company of his date a while longer. “I'm glad you had a good time,” he managed finally, eyes on the road. “I'd like to see you again. Maybe dinner next time, or a movie.”

“I’d like that,” Mol said, a gentle smile on his face. It was sad that they had to leave, but it was quite late. Behind them, the carnival still went on, though the crowd had changed to those who kept later hours than Gautier. It was a little like leaving a romantic wonderland as they drove away, the lights and music fading behind them. Like with most trips, the car ride back seemed much shorter than the one there, and Mol tried not to let his disappointment show as Gautier pulled up to his house. Lights were on in nearly all the windows, signifying that the household had woken. Glancing up at the place, Mol sighed, then turned to Gautier. “I suppose this is the end of our date, huh?”

“I suppose so. Dates do typically end when one member of the dating couple deposits the other member at their household.” Gautier smiled at Mol and leaned across the car, kissing his cheek. “I am supposed to see you safely to the door, I believe.” Gautier intended to do just that, and get the customary at-the-door kiss for his trouble. He parked, then made sure to get Mol's door for him again like the gentleman he was trying to be. Making sure that Mol had all of his stuff, Gautier walked him up to the door. “Well, goodnight.” He was getting that kiss, dammit. Gautier poured all of the attraction that had been building all night into that kiss, tongue curling into Mol's mouth and winding down his throat. Gautier's hand wrapped into Mol's hair, pulling his head back to extend his throat so that Gautier could go deeper in. He thrust with his tongue a few times, then slowly pulled away. “Goodnight,” he said again.

Mol fell headlong into that kiss, the arm that wasn’t holding all of his prizes reaching out to curl about Gautier’s neck. That tongue of his slid into his mouth, exploring every part of it, sliding down his throat. It made his knees turn to water, and if he didn’t hold on he was sure he would fall. Back arching a bit, he pressed himself against Gautier’s body, craving more contact. By the time the kiss ended, Mol was shaky all over, and before he knew it Gautier was heading back down the driveway toward his car. He couldn’t just let him go home. Not after that. “Wait,” he called after him, barely able to get the word out. “Do… Do you want to come inside?” he asked. Why he felt timid about asking was somewhat of a mystery to him. Usually he didn’t even have to ask. Usually, it was just assumed that the night would end with a good hard fuck. Even if Gautier turned him down, having to ask was… refreshing.

Oh, thank you. Gautier stopped halfway down the driveway and turned around, heading back toward his date. He'd been hoping that Mol would ask him inside, because this level of attraction, going unfulfilled, was torture. “I would love to come inside, thank you,” Gautier said politely, though he was blatantly undressing Mol with his eyes. He couldn't wait to get his hands all over Mol, and he made himself a promise that he wouldn't take things too far tonight. Already, though, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to keep that promise. As Gautier followed Mol inside, he flushed a little, wondering if Mol could tell exactly how turned on and eager he'd made Gautier.

Bringing people home was always tricky for Mol. It was that time of night when the entire household was awake and getting ready to start their version of a day, a process which involved any manner of shenanigans, a majority of which Mol took part in. It was still fairly early by their terms, and Mol was thankful to find the house still quiet. Judging by the smell of strong coffee and chocolate, Mol guessed that Mathias was already up and milling about the kitchen. Poking his head in the door, he peered around, then took Gautier's hand. "Come on," he said quietly, a playful smile on his face.



It wasn't exactly that Mol had to sneak around his own home, nor was he ashamed to bring Gautier inside. Rather, it was just a lot easier to avoid the rest of the household in order to prevent interruptions. Mol wanted Gautier all to himself tonight, and it was best if no one, especially Lukah, knew that he was even home. Eagerly, Mol pulled Gautier up the stairs.



Unfortunately, the second floor of the house was not as neat and organized as the ground level. Furniture was upturned, junk strewn here and there, and every corner seemed to be occupied by some manner of dangerous equipment or weaponry. Mol said nothing about it, but was kind enough to lead Gautier through a clear path in the hallway, and to one of two sets of large, dark wood double doors. "My room," he said quietly, pushing open one of the doors.



Mol's bedroom was like an entire house shoved into one room. the ceiling was high, the walls decorated with all manner of whathaveyou- posters, bits of machinery, notes, sketches, drawings- things of the like. One wall was completely dedicated to Mol's collection of firearms, which would have been impressive to even the most avid collector. Like the hallway, Mol's room was packed with stuff- not quite to the level of a hoarder, but perhaps a pack rat. There was a large bed that was between two large speaker cabinets, almost completely lost from sight by a swarm of colorful blankets and tapestries, all draped haphazardly to form something like a makeshift canopy. The bed itself was large, the mattress also swarming with pillows and blankets and comforters. Across from the bed on the opposite wall was a massive plasma screen. To the left was another set of double doors that lead out to a balcony. Despite the clutter, everything was clean. There was a method to the madness, though only Mol knew it. But it was his space. He'd made it his own, made it his sanctuary, and there was no other place like it.



All the more perfect a place to bring Gautier to, in his mind. As soon as the door closed behind Gautier, Mol had his arms around him, pulling him in to a kiss that was, in a word, desperate. "I thought you were actually going to leave for a moment," he managed between kisses.

The clutter upstairs was more what Gautier had been expecting from looking at the outside of the house. This collection of stuff appealed to some part of Gautier, who had his own hoard of treasure filling up space in his home. But the things that Mol and his family seemed most interested in collecting weren't to his taste, and that was a good thing. Otherwise he might have been compelled to lift a few special pieces to add to his own collection.



Gautier had no chance to take in the controlled mess that was Mol's room before Mol was on him, pressing a chain of frantic kisses to his lips. Gautier responded with a low growl, holding Mol close enough that he swore he could feel Mol's heartbeat in his own chest. “Wait.” Gautier's eyes were stinging fiercely, and each time he blinked it felt like he had dry sand beneath his eyelids. “Since we're not in public anymore, I want to take these out.” Removing his contacts was unpleasant, but the relief he got from having his eyes free of the horrible little disks was amazing.



Blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision, Gautier sighed as that gritty feeling in his eyes disappeared. He put the old contacts into his pocket, unconcerned that they were ruined, since he had a dozen pairs at home. When he looked at Mol again, it was with his natural eyes, silver irises so pale they nearly blended with the rest of his eye. “Much better. Kiss me.” Gautier was feeling plenty desperate, but there was a fine line between desperation and rushing. He kept the kiss slow, this time allowing Mol the chance to take charge of the kiss and do some exploring of his own.

Mol was staring into Gautier’s eyes with a slightly awestruck look on his face. The contacts had completely masked their true color, and Mol instantly preferred Gautier without them. Their color was stunning, like two pale silver moons looking back at him, and Mol was captivated. “Much better,” he agreed before pulling him back into another kiss. Stuffed animals and other prizes won at the carnival were dropped carefully on the floor by the door, and Mol pulled Gautier further into the room. Taking the advantage Gautier had given him, Mol’s own tongue, not nearly as long, but quite talented, sought entrance to Gautier’s mouth. Sweetly, almost timidly, Mol memorized every contour, until his tongue nudged up against Gautier’s playfully. All the while he pressed himself up against him, hands roaming his arms and back lazily, but curiously.

Mol's tongue was just as sweet and inquisitive as the man himself, and Gautier couldn't get enough of it. He groaned at that playful nudge, twisting his own tongue around Mol's and gently squeezing it. Sucking on that slippery muscle, Gautier found the hem of Mol's shirt, hands finding plenty of bare skin to caress on the way up his back. He pressed himself closer to Mol's warm, lean body, soaking up the heat rising from him. Gautier's body was a few degrees cooler naturally, and all that body heat felt fantastic. His hands crept lower slowly, as if Mol wouldn't notice if he only moved carefully enough. Gautier just couldn't resist getting a good solid feel of the delectable ass that had been driving him out of his mind all night. He used his grip to rock Mol's hips forward, grinding against him.

A breathy little gasp escaped Mol's throat as Gautier's bold hands gripped him. Just that touch sent a bolt right down to his crotch, and his hardness pressed against Gautier as their hips met. Aching to get more attention, to feel Gautier's bare skin beneath his hands, Mol took liberties of his own. Kisses veering off to be pressed languidly down Gautier's throat, Mol's hands worked to free the buttons of Gautier's shirt from their fastenings. Sharp nails could have made easy work of it, but Mol took his time, enjoying the art of it until he smoothed back his shirt and let his hands slip beneath the fabric.

Mol couldn't have known what he was doing by kissing Gautier's throat like that. Tender little glands nestled beneath Gautier's jaw thrummed happily at the unintentional stimulation, flooding Gautier's mouth with fizzy, tingling liquid. Gautier's hips bucked, fingers digging in where he held on to Mol's ass. Instinct told him to press his tongue between Mol's lips, feed that liquid down his throat, but instead, Gautier swallowed it himself, moaning as his head began to swim and his skin began to tingle. He shrugged out of his shirt, then helped Mol out of his. Immediately fascinated by the piercings in Mol's nipples, Gautier thumbed over them, then tugged ever so gently. He'd seen pierced nipples before, of course, but nothing that had such a strong effect on him. No doubt about it, Mol was the sexiest man on the planet to Gautier just then.

A low purr began in Mol’s throat as the little gold rings in his nipples were tugged, and his head lolled, a river of curls spilling over Gautier’s shoulder. His hands became greedy then, sliding over Gautier’s bared skin, following the curves and contours of his back as they slid downward. They came to rest on the waist of his jeans, and tucking his fingers into the belt loops on either side of them, he used them to tug Gautier closer. Something about Gautier’s scent had changed- something new that was added to that rich smell he identified as Gautier. He couldn’t place it, but it made his senses tingle pleasantly. Grinding against him, his breath growing heavier, Mol nuzzled at the place where neck met shoulder, taking in his scent, licking, kissing, nipping. “Oh Gautier,” he breathed, sharp teeth grazing skin as he nibbled. “I could eat you.”

That gold in Mol's chest was impossible to ignore. Gautier's cock stiffened further, like it hadn't known what hard was before. He loved gold by itself, all of his kind did, but seeing it decorating the flesh of someone he was so attracted to was just over the top. “You need more piercings,” Gautier murmured, accent terribly thick and voice rough with arousal. He stroked over those little nubs, twisted the rings, then finally caved and bent slightly, lowering his mouth to Mol's chest. The flavor of the metal itself wasn't unpleasant, especially coupled with the taste of Mol's skin.



When Gautier pulled back, he was flushed and breathing like he'd just run a mile. “Gold is a particular weakness of mine,” he admitted, his hands sliding down around Mol's thighs. Grunting softly, Gautier lifted Mol up, guiding his legs around his waist. That boost in height put Mol's chest right in front of Gautier's mouth again, and he laved tingling liquid over both nipples while he began the short walk to the bed. He laid Mol down and settled on top of him, able to get much better friction in this position when he started to grind. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten this turned on, without even being fully unclothed.

“More? You haven’t even seen them all,” Mol countered with a playful smile, which turned into an ‘O’ as Gautier paid those sensitive, hardened peaks more attention. Fingers burying in Gautier’s hair, Mol squirmed as that tongue he was quickly growing to adore assaulted his nipples. It was one of those spots on his body that just plain made him hard as hell when touched the right way, and Gautier was certainly touching him the right way. Nearly panting, his thighs hugged Gautier’s waist eagerly, and continued to do so when he felt the soft Cashmere of his bed at his back. That tingling liquid- something Mol still had no idea about- began to work its magic, and the feel of it sent bolts right through Mol and straight down to his cock. Arching slightly against him, he let out sweet moans, clinging to Gautier, hips meeting the motion of his grinding.

Gautier wasn't quite in his right mind. All he could think about was tasting more of Mol's skin, of sucking that taste down so deep inside of him he'd never get it out. He pressed Mol's thighs apart, down to the bed, squeezing to hint that he should keep them there. The visible bulge in Mol's pants made Gautier's mouth water. He cupped it, rubbed it, admiring the heft of it behind Mol's fly. Easing down the zipper on Mol's jeans, he freed Mol's cock with all the excitement of unwrapping a long-awaited gift. “Gorgeous,” he breathed, curiously circling the head with his fingertip. Mol just barely bested him in length and width, but his erection was so tempting that Gautier couldn't take offense. As good as it looked, it tasted even better when Gautier curled his tongue around it, slurping in a most obscene way as he pulled that cock into his mouth.

Too far gone himself to really think about anything, Mol obediently held his thighs open to Gautier, giving the man all the access he wanted. Already achingly hard, he could barely hold it together when Gautier’s talented tongue engulfed him and drew him into that hot, wet mouth. There was something about Gautier’s mouth, something that made little sparks and trembling whispers race all over his cock, but there was not a single part of him that really cared about finding out what it was right then. Squirming beneath Gautier, Mol fought to keep still. “Ohdearfuckinggod,” he breathed, one hand reaching down to slide through Gautier’s hair.

Gautier loved sucking dick, and it showed. He moaned in pleasure, going down further and letting Mol's cock press into the back of his throat. There was power in this, and it was exhilarating like few other things. He lifted away briefly so that he could talk. “You can move. You won't hurt me.” And honestly, Gautier loved having his throat fucked. As he swallowed Mol's cock again, he lifted Mol's hips, forcing a thrust down his throat that was very nearly rough. Gautier groaned. It should have hurt, but it just felt good.

Mol felt his cock slide past the cavern of Gautier’s mouth and into his throat. Chills ran down his spine as Gautier’s lips nestled at the base of him, and his head fell back as he groaned. Permission to fuck such a gorgeous and eager mouth did not fall on deaf ears. Mol was big, and he knew it, and he wanted nothing more than to see just how well Gautier could take it. Propping himself up on his elbows, he caught sight of his handsome date sprawled on the bed, head over his lap, mouth open and engulfing him. Another shiver ran through him, and his fingers tightened their hold in Gautier’s hair. Buried in his velvety throat, Mol’s cock jumped and wept at such a sight, and he couldn’t help but move his hips. “Naida, Gautier,” he breathed, easing himself in and out of his mouth, keeping himself mostly lodged in that hot channel as he fucked his throat.

Gautier began to growl, low in his throat, the sound vibrating around the nice hard cock lodged in his throat. A dusky flush spread across Gautier's cheeks as he worked his tongue with the rhythm of Mol's thrusting. Good, good, so damn good, he thought, nearly dizzy with arousal. He'd wanted his throat fucked, and Mol was doing it perfectly, fucking him more deeply than he'd felt for a long time. Gautier moaned in time with Mol's easy, rolling thrusts down his throat, and his hips started to move. It was subtle at first, but quickly Gautier's motions became obvious as he got what friction he could from the mattress. But it wasn't enough. Gautier grabbed Mol's ankle and pulled his leg in, guiding him to press his foot against the ridge behind Gautier's fly. The sole of Mol's shoe was hard, and Gautier couldn't grind against him without a bit of pain, but it was worth it and he couldn't stop. It was a little twisted, and Gautier was embarrassed that he obviously needed to come just that badly, but none of that was enough to make him pull away from that stimulation.

As soon as Gautier began to growl, Mol let out a sweet moan, the vibration of his throat nearly sending him over. But he didn’t want to come just yet. Gautier’s mouth was just too hot, his throat just too tight, the flush on his face just too erotic, and he wanted more. Propping himself up against the pillows, his thighs still parted and his foot nudging carefully against Gautier’s crotch, he levered himself just right, so that he could hold onto Gautier by the hair and thrust into him however he liked. It was amazing how Gautier took it, and Mol didn’t think he’d ever been with anyone who could take him down so completely and work him over so good. Panting, his breath growing heavier as sensation rolled over him, he snapped his hips a little harder, pulled out a little further, slid home a little deeper. And dear gods if it didn’t just make him all the harder to see Gautier writhing against his foot, trying to get some kind of stimulation.

Gautier's whole body jerked when Mol started to really fuck his face, that hand in his hair making his blood run hot. His hand clutched the ankle he still held, and he rocked against Mol's foot with more force. The sounds he was making were just shy of savage, but he didn't care. He was getting close, everything was tingling, and he was burning up in the most perfect way imaginable. Gautier's other hand was holding tight to Mol's hip, encouraging him to move more, thrust even harder than he was. Gautier's throat was going to be raw in the morning, but it couldn't have mattered less. This was perfect.

“Geezus!” Mol groaned as that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach rose. Gautier was blatantly giving him permission, encouraging him even, to fuck his throat even harder, and Mol took that and ran with it. Leaning back on the pillows, both Mol’s hands fisted Gautier’s hair, and his hips started to pump just shy of being brutally hard. He felt the graze of teeth against his cock a few times, and it only served to drive him all the more wild for the man in his lap. Try as he might, he only lasted a few more hard thrusts into that tight, wet heaven. The only warning Mol gave was the pleasured cry that spilled out of his lips, the arch of his back, the trembling of his entire body, and yanking Gautier’s hair, he forced himself as deep as he could down his throat and came. It was a shuddering orgasm, one that had built up to an exquisite crescendo, and wave after wave wracked his body as he shot down Gautier’s throat.

The sound of Mol losing it, the feel of his body shaking and trembling, and the spill of heat down Gautier's throat, all of it was more than he could handle. He was close already, and that just pushed him right over. Grinding himself against Mol's foot, Gautier growled deeply as he started to come, surprised when his climax was intense enough to make his toes curl in his shoes. It had been years since the last time he'd popped off without warning, in his pants, like a school boy. Humiliating, and deliciously erotic all at once.



He continued to suck until Mol stopped shuddering and his cock began to soften. Gautier gently licked Mol clean as he pulled away, reluctant to sever the connection between them. He purred, resting his head on Mol's thigh, completely relaxed despite the growing discomfort of having a substantial wet spot in his pants.

Strength drained, Mol let himself flop back on his pillows, panting to try and catch his breath. “Voi Luoja!” he gasped, reaching up to push back the loose curls that had fallen into his face. He hadn’t come like that in a long time, especially not in such a hot mouth. Gautier had taken everything he had without so much as a little cough, and he’d swallowed. That thought was almost enough for him to pop another boner right then. Reaching down, he let his fingers slide lazily through Gautier’s hair. He only stopped to get his strength back a few minutes, and then he wanted Gautier closer, in his arms, pressed up against him. “C’mere,” he said with a lazy smile. Sliding down a bit, he pulled Gautier up to him the rest of the way and wound his arms around him, pulling him close. “That was really incredible,” he managed, still slightly out of breath.

“It was pretty good,” Gautier agreed demurely, quite pleased with himself and happy he'd been the cause of such pleasure in Mol. “I won't stay long, I ah...I'm getting a little uncomfortable.” Besides, it was against Gautier's personal policy to cuddle like this. Normally, after he was finished with them, he couldn't stand the sight or feel of his lovers. This, however...was very different. Gautier was content to stroke Mol's hair, tongue occasionally flicking out to taste different parts of his face and neck, committing the different tastes and textures to memory.

“Oh…” Mol said, pausing a moment. At first he didn’t understand why Gautier wanted to leave, until he really thought about it and figured that Gautier probably didn’t want to stay in gooey pants. Still, it left Mol a little disappointed. He’d assumed they would go further than they had, and that Gautier would stay the night. That’s always how it went. Even if it was just a casual fuck, Mol’s bed mates usually stuck around for the night, whether they slept in his bed with him or retreated to a sofa elsewhere in the house. Maybe Gautier thought this was just something casual. He hoped not. Gautier’s tongue tickled along his skin, and Mol broke the silence with a quiet little laugh. Even if Gautier wanted this to be casual, that was ok. He liked him, and as pathetic as it may have sounded, he’d take what he could get. Leaning down, he stopped the infernal tickling tongue by capturing his mouth in a slow, deep kiss. “You… you can stay the night, if you like,” he ventured.

“Mmm,” Gautier purred into the kiss, holding Mol more tightly as a result. “Next time, handsome. I have work in the morning, and something tells me if I stay here, I'll get precious little sleep.” He kissed him again, then got up to find his shirt, crumpled into a heap on the floor. It was hopelessly wrinkled, but it had been well worth it. After he put it on, Gautier returned to the bed to kiss Mol once more, caressing his cheek as he pulled away. “You don't need to see me out. I know the way. I'll call on you again soon, and we'll catch that movie, hm?”



He left shortly after that, making his way down the hall and down the stairs without running into anyone. The last thing he wanted was for someone to catch him in his current state, with a dark spot in his pants that was completely obvious. It was horribly uncomfortable, the sticky liquid beginning to cool between the fabric and his skin, and Gautier had to struggle not to walk like something was wrong with him as he moved toward the door.

Mol was sad to see Gautier leave, but he wasn’t going to pressure him to stay. After all, he wasn’t a night thing, and he kept to daytime hours. Mol didn’t want to interfere with his schedule, or his work. As the door closed behind Gautier, Mol let out a happy sigh and let himself fall back onto his pillows. It had been a great night, and he was left with a happy glow from it. Normally he would have been starting his day, but Mol had other ideas, which required him to just go right to bed. Gautier’s mouth had left that an easy task. Shucking the rest of his clothes off and letting them fall where they lay, he retrieved one of the stuffed animals Gautier had one from where he’d set it when they came in. It was his favorite one- the big stuffed silver dragon. Marching back over to his bed, he dove into it, burrowing into the layers of colorful covers and pillows. With Gautier Jr. tight in his arms, he called it a night.

Gautier had almost gotten away without incident. Almost. Lukah, munching on what looked to be some kind of pastry, leaking something quite red and gooey and smelling of copper and sugar, came from the hall off to the side and nearly ran straight into the man. The pupils in his eyes said that whatever he’d been on when Gautier had first come to the house was gone, but that didn’t mean Lukah would act any different. Slightly startled, he took a step back and eyed Gautier. Narrowed eyes soon turned to a single arched brow and a grin as he took in the rumpled shirt, mussed hair, and the large wet spot in his pants.

“Just couldn’t hold it, could you?” he said, taking a bite of his pastry. A bit of red ooze dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. “You smell like dick,” he finished, patting him on the shoulder as he walked passed him, and disappeared down another dark hallway.

Lukah was gone before Gautier could think of something appropriately rude to say back to him, and it was a good thing. Gautier was already embarrassed that he'd lost control in such an obvious way, and to have it brought to attention and mocked was just too much. Gautier did NOT like Lukah, who kept sinking lower and lower on the dragon's shit list. Still, with the memory of the wonderful night he'd had fresh in his mind, Gautier left with minimal slamming of the front door. When he got home, he got the fish that Mol had won him settled in the aquarium with the rest of his fresh water fish, feeding the little Pip and making sure he was alright. Then, it was time to take care of himself, so he got naked and went directly into the shower, then collapsed into bed still damp. He was sated, happy, and truly sprung on someone for the first time in a long time. It was wonderful.

TBC~!

So, if I set up a Formspring so that people can ask questions of any of the characters, or of either of us authors, would you guys be interested in that? I can do it, just let me know if there's any interest at all!