Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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Mead and Sympathy M!DB/Brynjolf 5/6

[(Anonymous)]

Dyce heard a door slam, somewhere behind him. He jerked his head back and met Brynjolf’s startled gaze for one brief moment. They didn’t speak, they didn’t even think; they acted. Dyce wrapped his arms around Brynjolf’s shoulders and ducked his head, and they rolled under the table.

They came to a halt, Dyce still straddling Brynjolf’s waist. They waited in the shadow under the desk, barely breathing.

Footsteps.

“See, I told you it was a ridiculous idea.” Niruin.

“It is not.” Thyrnn. “We just need a better way of predicting the weather. Or we move faster.”

“We could steal some horses.”

“How well can you shoot from horseback?”

As they were having this conversation they walked further into the Cistern. Dyce watched their feet as they paused by the cooking pot, and someone poked the fire, presumably to warm their hands. Please, he thought, don’t let them sit down and start cooking.

Dyce felt Brynjolf shift beneath him, and he looked down to see the Nord biting down hard on his lip, his hands easing slowly between them towards his belt. Dyce lifted himself up slightly to give him more room.

Niruin and Thrynn were still there, standing by the fire and discussing their plan. Dyce barely heard it. It was a stupid idea to even move; they were in the shadows but not entirely hidden, but he couldn’t stop himself, Brynjolf couldn’t stop himself. He held his breath as Brynjolf slowly and carefully eased his belt open, trying not to let the metal buckle clink. Equally slowly, he started working on the straining buttons below.

Dyce could tear his eyes away, although he could hear the others walking around, and the scrape of someone moving a chair. They could have been unloading the entire contents of the Imperial treasury and he wouldn’t have cared. Because Brynjolf was easing his pants off.

Dyce held his breath as the Nord’s gorgeous uncut cock was finally freed from it’s leather bindings. Even in the shadow he could see the end glistening, and he could feel its warmth. Brynjolf gave it a slow, luxurious stroke, and Dyce watched a bead of moisture squeeze out the tip and drip onto Brynjolf’s stomach.

“Look at that!”

Dyce snapped his head up.

“Ha! Someone’s defaced Nocturnal.” The two thieves wandered away from the fire and around the edge of the room towards the statue. “Who do you think did it?”

“Brynjolf? He seemed kind of pissed about the whole thing. Or Vex, to show she’s still the girl in charge around here.”

“Dyce would too, although I haven’t seen him around lately.”

“Do you think we should clean it off?”

“Nah. Why should we? It’s not our problem. Besides, it’s kind of funny. Just don’t tell Karliah.”

Dyce silently released the breath he’d been holding when he realised they hadn’t been discovered. He looked down into Brynjolf’s half-closed eyes, and rocked his hips, feeling his cock press against his stomach. Brynjolf’s mouth opened and through what appeared to be a great effort of will, no sound came out.

Dyce forced himself to breathe quietly, as Brynjolf's hands crept around his hips, and cupped his arse. Brynjolf squeezed and pulled him close. Their cocks were pressed between them, and Dyce realised he didn’t want to stop moving, couldn’t stop. It was an agony of pleasure as they silently ground against each other, hardly daring to breath, or even move too much, lest they hit the underside of the table and cause something to make noise.

Dyce grabbed on to Brynjolf’s shoulders and gritted his teeth, willing Niruin and Thrynn to go away.

But the fact that the other thieves were there only made it more urgent, more impossible to stop, as Brynjolf shut his eyes and arched his hips up desperately. There was only the slightest sound of leather sliding against leather where their legs were pressed against each other.

Dyce couldn’t keep watching, he lowered his head to Brynjolf's chest, pressing his open mouth to the Nord’s skin, his eyes shut against any more stimulation.

It seemed to go on like this forever, Niruin and Thrynn wandering around talking and Dyce and Brynjolf trapped under the table, unable to tear themselves apart even if they’d had the space to.