Dyce saw Vilkas crawl out of the bedroll out of the corner of his eye while he hunted through his pack. When he turned back he nearly dropped the bottle; Vilkas was on his hands and knees, his legs spread slightly and his arse in the air. The sight sent a jolt of heat to Dyce’s cock, which had shrunk from the cold while he was tending to the fire.
Wasn’t so cold in here anymore.
“I take it you’re not really into foreplay.” Dyce said, kneeling down on the end of the bedroll, just appreciating the view.
“You’ve been grinding up against me for what seems like hours,” Vilkas pointed out. “And then you wandered around like an idiot without any clothes on. I really don’t see- ngh.” His balls were hanging invitingly between his legs and Dyce rolled them across his fingers, and squeezed gently.
“You’re like a sculpture,” Dyce said, running his hands along Vilka’s muscled back, over the curve of his arse. It would take a week, he thought, to appreciate him properly. Sadly, they didn’t have a week, and since Vilkas seemed more than comfortable with the whole idea, he oiled them up as fast as was polite.
He wanted that. As fast and hard as Vilkas would let him take it.
Vilkas seemed just as eager. He pressed back against Dyce as he positioned himself. “Come on, it doesn’t hurt. Harder.” Dyce found himself wondering just who was top dog here after all.
As it turned out, Vilkas, so stoic and reserved most of the time, was one of the most demanding lovers Dyce had ever taken. He wanted it harder, and faster, right now. He was not shy about using his considerable strength to push back, practically bucking Dyce off more than once.
Dyce gritted his teeth and held on, his toes digging into the dirt of the cave for purchase, his hair swinging in front of his eyes as he slammed his hips against the warrior’s arse. In an attempt to regain some control, he stretched over Vilkas and grabbed a handful of his long, dark hair, pulling his head back. Vilkas snarled and Dyce felt him clench in excitement.
Fuck, that hadn’t worked. Vilkas’s ‘harder!’ now encompassed pulling on his hair. Dyce was not much of a dom, but there was no dominating Vilkas.
“Please, anything, more,” he cried out hoarsely. Dyce bared his teeth and then curled forward and sunk them in Vilkas’s back. Vilkas roared his approval. It was like fucking a force of nature, and Dyce found himself roaring back, biting and tugging viciously at Vilkas’s hair.
It was such a rush to see the big man flex and shake, and hear him beg and order and they were lost, spit running down Vilkas’s back, and oil down his thighs. And they were lost in each other. Dyce’s stomach muscles protested as he flexed them again and again, uncertain he’d be able to stop.
And Vilkas demanded that he come, begged him to come, and Dyce told him to fuck off and wrenched his head back by his hair and invited him to go first, twisting a nipple hard with his free hand. And they swore at each other and it was almost a mercy to feel it coming to an end, feel his balls tightening, and Vilkas losing coherent speech. He reached around and squeezed the end of Vilkas’s cock and the first splurt of hot, musky seed on his fingers was enough to make Dyce come, his vision darkening.
Or maybe the fire was going out again.
Vilkas rolled onto his back and Dyce flopped down on him, regardless of the mess. His calf was threatening to cramp up and he lay there gasping, trying to ease it back from the brink.
“Thanks,” Vilkas said finally. “I needed that.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Fuck.” Dyce grinned, wide and still slightly disbelieving.
“Farkas was right about you. You’re alright.”
“Huh. You should listen to him more often.” Dyce yawned. “If it means anything, I think the Companions are in good hands. Kodlak’s and yours. If you need my help for anything, you just need to ask.”
“Help? What use is a runty little Breton?” he asked with amusement.
“Oh I see how it is. I’ll get my own bedroll then, shall I?”
Vilkas wrapped his arms around him. “No. Not this time.”
"Nothing But Trouble" M!DB/Farkas M!DB/Vilkas 10/10 + tags
Wasn’t so cold in here anymore.
“I take it you’re not really into foreplay.” Dyce said, kneeling down on the end of the bedroll, just appreciating the view.
“You’ve been grinding up against me for what seems like hours,” Vilkas pointed out. “And then you wandered around like an idiot without any clothes on. I really don’t see- ngh.” His balls were hanging invitingly between his legs and Dyce rolled them across his fingers, and squeezed gently.
“You’re like a sculpture,” Dyce said, running his hands along Vilka’s muscled back, over the curve of his arse. It would take a week, he thought, to appreciate him properly. Sadly, they didn’t have a week, and since Vilkas seemed more than comfortable with the whole idea, he oiled them up as fast as was polite.
He wanted that. As fast and hard as Vilkas would let him take it.
Vilkas seemed just as eager. He pressed back against Dyce as he positioned himself. “Come on, it doesn’t hurt. Harder.” Dyce found himself wondering just who was top dog here after all.
As it turned out, Vilkas, so stoic and reserved most of the time, was one of the most demanding lovers Dyce had ever taken. He wanted it harder, and faster, right now. He was not shy about using his considerable strength to push back, practically bucking Dyce off more than once.
Dyce gritted his teeth and held on, his toes digging into the dirt of the cave for purchase, his hair swinging in front of his eyes as he slammed his hips against the warrior’s arse. In an attempt to regain some control, he stretched over Vilkas and grabbed a handful of his long, dark hair, pulling his head back. Vilkas snarled and Dyce felt him clench in excitement.
Fuck, that hadn’t worked. Vilkas’s ‘harder!’ now encompassed pulling on his hair. Dyce was not much of a dom, but there was no dominating Vilkas.
“Please, anything, more,” he cried out hoarsely. Dyce bared his teeth and then curled forward and sunk them in Vilkas’s back. Vilkas roared his approval. It was like fucking a force of nature, and Dyce found himself roaring back, biting and tugging viciously at Vilkas’s hair.
It was such a rush to see the big man flex and shake, and hear him beg and order and they were lost, spit running down Vilkas’s back, and oil down his thighs. And they were lost in each other. Dyce’s stomach muscles protested as he flexed them again and again, uncertain he’d be able to stop.
And Vilkas demanded that he come, begged him to come, and Dyce told him to fuck off and wrenched his head back by his hair and invited him to go first, twisting a nipple hard with his free hand. And they swore at each other and it was almost a mercy to feel it coming to an end, feel his balls tightening, and Vilkas losing coherent speech. He reached around and squeezed the end of Vilkas’s cock and the first splurt of hot, musky seed on his fingers was enough to make Dyce come, his vision darkening.
Or maybe the fire was going out again.
Vilkas rolled onto his back and Dyce flopped down on him, regardless of the mess. His calf was threatening to cramp up and he lay there gasping, trying to ease it back from the brink.
“Thanks,” Vilkas said finally. “I needed that.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Fuck.” Dyce grinned, wide and still slightly disbelieving.
“Farkas was right about you. You’re alright.”
“Huh. You should listen to him more often.” Dyce yawned. “If it means anything, I think the Companions are in good hands. Kodlak’s and yours. If you need my help for anything, you just need to ask.”
“Help? What use is a runty little Breton?” he asked with amusement.
“Oh I see how it is. I’ll get my own bedroll then, shall I?”
Vilkas wrapped his arms around him. “No. Not this time.”
Tags: char:M!DB, char:Farkas, char:Vilkas, relationship:slash, kink:angst, kink:anal, kink:rough_sex, kink:hair_pulling, kink:biting, kink:size_kink, series:dyce