You were being whipped around, that’s how it felt. Your traveling back and forth between shards would give you whiplash no matter how used to it you became. It was when you would return to the Source to find nothing at all for you for the umpteenth time that you began to feel dreadfully, albeit shamefully bored. And while you would certainly find your hands busy almost immediately upon setting foot the First, being put to work wasn’t exactly something you craved either. If you could simply have the freedom to do what you pleased, but the proper facets with which to fill your timetable—Ah, but that would be asking too much of the gods, now wouldn’t it?
You think so. And that is why you sigh through a weak smile as you close your eyes and feel your aether disperse itself, then reconvene in the Crystarium’s aetheryte plaza. You also think that you finally have it down, when your feet are planted firmly on the pavement and you don’t find yourself immediately wanting to toss your lunch. But then the inertia of having crossed the rift of bloody time and space in a fraction of a moment takes its toll on your aether once more, causing you to stumble and almost crash into the nearest passerby. At least you can say you are not dry-heaving anymore.
There’s a science behind that, Raha tells you. You don’t care much for it. All you know is that the other Scions don’t share the unfortunate experience of having their corporeal being all but repeatedly jammed through a cheese grater and then reconstructed, and that’s enough to make you tilted one way for a bit, each time.
Thoughts of the Crystal Exarch pull you through it, and they pull the corners of your lips up into a grin as you eye the path to his abode from the plaza. You know that he will no doubt be nose-deep in his tomes trying to find a way to send your friends home, and you mean to offer your services at the Crystalline Mean. But for now you will play to your old habits and deliver yourself to your lover’s door.
You’re pretty much recovered from your woozy state by the time your knuckles politely tap on the door to the Ocular, but you grow worried when Raha doesn’t respond for several seconds. They would’ve told you at the gate if the Exarch were out, and the only reasons you can immediately think of for him not to answer you would be if he didn’t hear you… or couldn’t hear you. Now your mind is running a malm a minute, with alternatives ranging from; ‘if he has fallen asleep in his study and I am disturbing him,’ to ‘what if he overexerted himself and passed out on the floor?’
Just as your thoughts are about to get the best of you and have you busting in unannounced, the doors click open. Though the first face you see is not the red-headed Miqo’te you’d anticipated. Rather, a finely-dressed Hyuran man who looked— smelled of the formerly-called ‘City of Final Pleasures.’ Though ‘pleasure’ isn’t exactly the first word that comes to mind when the musk hits your senses.
The man acknowledges your presence, though thankfully doesn’t seem to know who you are and continues on his way without thinking to include you in whatever deal (business or otherwise) he has just struck with the Exarch. And then after bidding the man farewell, out pokes the familiar face of the Exarch himself, warming to your presence. You grin at one another and Raha watches until his guest is far enough away, then opens his mouth.
“I apologize for the delay, my love. As you can see, I had some company…”
“Oh? Company better than me~?” You jest with an obviously flirtatious tone, and Raha lets out a cute laugh that makes it worth it.
“Nonsense! You know that I find no greater company than with you. ‘Twas strictly diplomatic… Staggeringly so. In fact, I was just making final preparations for travel to Eulmore for a summit.” He notices your frown. “I admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you this afternoon, but—Ah, well this may be the right timing after all.”
Curious, you raise an eyebrow at him. You watch as Raha steps back and holds the door open the rest of the way with his crystal arm, then checks over your shoulder once more before gently taking your hand in his. You know that the “right” time for anyone else may very well be the wrong time for you, but the man you love is happy to see you, so for now you don’t care.
“Come. I believe we have a little time for ourselves. I’ll explain inside.”
As you find yourself comfortably seated across from your lover inside a covered carriage led by Amaro, trading a flash of a coy grin, you begin to feel lucky… Of course, you are surrounded by a few other persons of import; namely Lyna as the representative captain of the guard, and Bragi, and… a few others whose names you cannot seem to recall at the moment. You just know that they hold some sort of monetarist or economical significance in the Crystarium. And they’re all here… That tells you enough to make you aware that this will be a very long summit. One which you personally have little to no place being at, except perhaps as a symbol.
You generally have no taste for these things, either. Not when you can’t contribute much besides smiling and looking pretty. You realize that Raha may have roped you into some essentially very arduous talks, but you let him pull that “esteemed guest” card on you, and well… it worked. You are weak for the man, anyway. So on the occasion he works up the nerve to ask for something, you can’t but oblige. And if making Raha happy simply means standing by him through an event he doesn’t enjoy, then you will gladly do it whenever the opportunity arises.
That’s not to say you have no other plans...
Nay, you made it very clear in the Ocular that you will both enjoy yourselves at least a little while you are in Kholusia. It wasn’t easy to convince him, especially given Eulmore’s deeply personal history with overindulgence, but a couple of persuasive kisses may have helped to do the trick. Besides, you promised you would not be losing your heads. A simple meal together, a simple bath together... and hopefully, a good romp in a comfortable bed if he isn’t feeling overly tired from being away from the tower. Maybe you’d slip aside and purchase a Eulmoran scratch-off card.
You huff silently to yourself in thought. That you would indulge in average activities, and call yourselves spoiled at the end of the day…
With your eyes drawn across to the crystal of Raha’s arm, you think about what little pleasures he’s probably had to enjoy over the years. It makes you think of ways you could spoil him further. Ways you can pleasure him.
When Raha clears his throat and shows you a small, curious smile, you realize you’ve been staring for too long and with the proximity to the others around you, it causes you to tense. If he’s as adept at reading you by now as you suspect, he knows it’s not the meeting you’re looking forward to.
Upon arrival in Eulmore, the air about the place is changed considerably from your first visit. And so are the citizens’ conduct, since they are no longer under Vauthry’s thrall. Most notably, you and yours are not immediately forced to shower and put on gaudy perfumes before you’re invited to take the lift to the main thoroughfare.
There is some time before the talks begin, so the Exarch and his entourage are offered a grand tour of the city. It is the first time that outsiders are allowed in for such purposes, so the acting ambassadors see it fit to offer a proper look at the place, and it also allows them to assess what needs to be addressed in terms of supply and labor. You have already seen it all, and you know quite well the state of things, so Raha urges you to stretch your legs in whichever direction you please. You will meet up again in a bell, or a bell and a half, give or take.
You survey the shops near the plaza and find little of interest to you, and then your legs are carrying you down a more dimly-lit hallway past racy old posters promising pleasurable times until you wind up inside the Beehive. It’s not so much the dancers you’re interested in (though they are certainly a sight). But you fancy trying out that new card game again, if you can find anyone to indulge you.
Instead, the room is nearly empty save one dancer practicing their routine, and the few huddled together whom you assume to also be staff. You overhear something from them that catches your attention...
“—Quitting left and right! Why, we just lost another of our girls last eve!”
“It isn’t that surprising, is it?!” One woman scoffs. “Imagine that; people have finally found something better to do with their time than ogle at bodies! Well, I for one am in full support of our citizens’ sudden call to decency, but not when it robs me of my hard-earned coin!”
You frown. It probably shouldn’t be too surprising to hear that the Beehive is falling on harder times after the wakeup call that they had. But you do feel for the people that work here.
“Well, let’s not fret just yet.” The other woman adds. “We have all our best dancers on tonight, and we’ve been working really hard! We only need to find one more...” Against your better judgement, you poke your nose where it doesn’t belong and approach them, suddenly interested.
“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but did I just hear you say you are short of a dancer?” Three pair of eyes shoot to you, and then back at one another. “I have some experience. I could help?”
“Truly?!” The woman who had been complaining spits out. It looks like the other two are still parsing your offer, with the man whom you assume to be the manager looking you up and down. The fact that you are still half dressed for combat probably does little to help your claim, but you do have experience. Moreso in run-of-the-mill stage performance—ensembles meant to tell stories rather than entice patrons to your body—but there was that one time in Hingashi…
The man hums to himself, thumbing the small bit of scruff on his chin, then speaks up as a smile begins spreading across his lips. “Yes, I do believe you would fetch a particular crowd yourself, Warrior of Darkness.”
You swallow, not expecting to be addressed. When the women look at you wide-eyed, you find yourself sheepishly running your fingers along the back of your neck under your collar. As it turns out, some people do recognize you.
“Though you know not what you offer.” He adds. “After all, all our bees have to be willing to make honey.” The expression has you cocking an eyebrow.
“I-I’m sorry? I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
One of the girls extends a finger towards a door on the far side of the room, to the left of the lounge, featuring a gold-gilded doorknob. “The Honey Room—our room for private sessions.”
‘Ah,’ you think to yourself. ‘ So it is that kind of place.’
“And then there is the matter of your, ahem, reputation… But if neither of those things are of any concern to you, then by all means!”
At first you wonder if you should reject. It isn’t that you’re too embarrassed to show off your body. Nor do you care overmuch about talk of what the Warrior of Darkness does in their spare time, should word of it actually spread. But you have heard tales in the past of patrons getting a bit touchy-feely, even rowdy in these types of places. Not that you don’t know how to deal with rowdy people... But you also think of why you came here in the first place. You think of how Raha might feel to know you are sharing a little bit more of yourself with people other than him, and you think about—
A wry, wicked grin works its way onto your mouth. You think about him.
“What time will you have need of me?”
You had but one request for the manager: the veil that now covers the lower half of your face in a rather vain attempt at obscuring your identity. In the end, you decided it was for the best if less people recognized you. Especially while your lover is locked in a summit with a handful of other important people whom you’d bumped elbows with, and even traded a few words with, on the way here. You can only hope that none of them are interested in paying the Beehive a visit post-summit. It’s the Exarch that you don’t want to embarrass more than necessary.
Of course you’d let him know what you were up to, sort of. You’d grabbed his elbow outside the doors to the former lord’s audience hall just as each party was about to file in and whispered your intentions.
“As it turns out I found something that requires my attention…” You recall the intrigued look on Raha’s face, the tilt of his jaw as his ears swiveled toward you. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here for part of it… But you should come and fetch me from the Beehive when you’re finished~” You winked at him, then let go and headed inside without giving him a chance to process what it was you were proffering. Just enough of a tease to leave all the right questions swimming in his head as he sat down for the talks. You almost feel bad about it, the way he kept looking distractedly at you. The way you shot him one last, mildly suggestive glance when you excused yourself…
Your grin is genuine as you spin yourself around the pole, center-stage for all to see as they whisper flattering words about the hive’s newest Honeybee. Men and women alike turn their attention to you as you carry on your mostly-improvised routine with zest, but your attention is not on them at all. For every other time your body makes its way around again, you find your eyes on the chronometer. Watching, waiting, for a certain patron to come along. Trying desperately not to appear too aroused by the things you’re anticipating doing to him in that back room where no one else can see you.
You’re midway into a squat when you catch the flash of bright red eyes on you, peering out from under the owner’s hood at the entrance. He enters slowly, fidgeting and keeping his crystal arm drawn close to his body, and you make sure to drag out the squat, bringing your hips low to stage floor and splaying your knees wide as you do so. Raha looks away from you and clutches his wrist, hiding his flustered face under the shadow of his hood. He’s no stranger to your wiles by now, but he’s a fish out of water in here and you adore him.
Rather than keep him waiting, risking the chance that he might become overwhelmed and turn away, you finish the movement with grace, raising your pelvis gradually into the air before you hop off of the stage. As you take a moment to smooth your hair over, you take note that most of those who were watching you have already turned their gazes to the other dancers on the high platforms. You’re thankful the Eulmorans have such short attention spans. It allows you to brush through the onlookers with relative ease. By the time you’ve reached your target, he is pulling the hood down further over his eyes.
“You’re… quite popular, I see.” You take Raha by the arm and begin leading him along toward that door on the side. “Ah, where are you taking me?” He doesn’t stop holding his hood tight to his head. A couple of giggles from the nearby table do not serve to hasten his sluggish pace but you give him a tug to reassure him.
“Come~” You nudge Raha into the Honey Room and shut the door behind you in two fluid motions. Once inside, you can’t resist stealing a peck on his lips beneath his hood. Beneath the veil that you ultimately decide to untie and let fall to the floor. You don’t need it anymore.
“Is this what you have been up to?” You hum affirmatively, giving him a moment to take in his surroundings. It is a small room, low-lit with violet lights surrounding the ceiling and a single cushioned armchair. You have also been keeping your change of clothes in here, in a leather bag deposited at the back corner of the room. The Twelve know you will need them. Raha turns his head back to you and you are already nudging him back toward the chair with your hands on his chest.
“Do I need to ask what you are planning to do?” He asks, curling his lips in contemplatively as his bottom meets the chair. They threaten to become a coy smile at any moment. You tell him anyway, so he can hear it.
“I’m going to treat you to a private dance, My Lord.” At that, a sound escapes his lips like a huff and you know he is withholding a lecture about calling him that. Just this once. He’s already allured by your manner of dress, or lack thereof, for the most part.
Leaning forward, you lay your hands on Raha’s shoulders. You watch him watch you as you slide your right hand from his shoulder to his collar, to his neck and jaw. It endears you how he leans into you when you trace along the crystal on his cheek before slowly pulling back his hood with both hands. You look lovingly down into those eyes and run your fingers back down Raha’s front to make him shiver, and leaning in close, you brush your lips against his until you can feel his breath, only to pull away again. The simple tease causes one of his ears to twitch wildly.
This is going to be very fun for the both of you.
With your eyes still fixed on him, you stand over him and plant your feet on either side of his so that your legs are spaced out just so in front of him. You bend over and your hands drag over his thighs down to his knees, then up your own thighs and along the dips and curves of your body. You spin yourself around and do it again—touch your hips, touch your ass, gyrating your lower half ever so slightly as you go.
“And you’ve been… doing this for others?” Raha’s voice is a low murmur. A satisfied smile pricks your lips. Though he has little to actually be jealous about, the possessive streak in him is something you quite enjoy when it dares to show itself. You shoot him a look over your shoulder just as your hands crawl up your torso to cup your chest. Another ear flick.
“Yes. Though nothing as intimate as what I have in store for you.”
Upon spinning back toward him, you lean down and surprise him with another peck on his lips. Then you watch his pupils dilate as your fingers work their way beneath your cropped top to fondle yourself without letting him see. You sway your hips and it’s the first instance he reaches out to you. Raha tries to touch your waist; his hands ghost the area, but you withdraw your own hands from your top to bat them away.
“Ah-ah.” You tease. “No touching allowed. It’s the rules.”
His ears fall for a moment, but they perk up again once you work your hands up your frame once more and begin sliding your top off slowly, keeping the rhythm with your body. You shuck the material over your head and once it hits the floor with a plop, you smooth your hand over your hair and resume your previous ministrations. You’re sure he likes them. His arms are gripping firmly on the armrests while he shifts in his seat, likely to account for his growing arousal.
“Raha.” You coo breathily at him and catch him biting his lip. “Why don’t you touch yourself to me?” Scarlet eyes follow your fingers as they dip below your waistband for merely a second before leaving. He holds his breath, then lets it go again.
“I- This is a public venue, I couldn’t…” ‘Tis fine. You will touch him before long.
After another minute of your performance in which you find his gaze falling heavier yet, you finally decide to brace your hands on Raha’s shoulders and climb onto his lap until you are straddling him. Your lips find that special spot on his neck where the crystal dips down into the collar of his cowl and run your tongue from his clavicle to where his shoulder begins, pulling aside the material where necessary. Adding in a roll of your hips has your precious patron gasping, squirming underneath you in his seat. His hands fly up once more to grab you, but again you stop him, this time taking his wrists and pinning them to the armrests.
“No touching~” Raha pouts.
“And how come you are allowed to touch me?” Your response is a nip on the exposed skin beneath his jaw, followed by another sharp roll of the hips that makes your lover groan.
“Well. Strictly speaking—” You say with a certain impishness to your voice as you sit up. You draw Raha’s face against your body and assault his ears with your fingers while you continue to grind your hips into his groin. The deep moans he lets out against your chest are absolutely delightful.
“... I am not subject to that authority.” There is a dark chuckle that spills hot breath onto your breast and makes you shudder. The fact that he reacts in such a way, it must mean that the moment is just as memorable to him.
“Hah... M-my own words come back to haunt me, it seems…” His lips close around a spot on your chest and suck. You allow him that, welcoming the small bit of pleasure and the heat that’s pooling down below as a result. His sounds against you as you continue to rub both ears and rut into him are something you relish.
“Remember not to be too loud, Raha.” You say, though you have to make a conscious effort to restrain some of your own noises, reminding yourself it is you who is doing the teasing.
His lips make a noise as they release your skin and your hands slip away from his ears as you admire his handiwork. You’re now the proud owner of a pretty purple mark on your upper right breast. When you ease off from his lap, he looks disappointed… until you kneel down on your ankles and start grabbing each piece of his cowl, drawing them slowly upward along with your body. Raha grabs the fabric near his thighs and holds it down in place, defensively. His eyes run to the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Rewarding you?” You answer plainly as you roll the material up his legs. “You sat for so long at the summit… And I think it’s past time I made you feel good. Don’t you?”
“I don’t—” Raha tenses visibly, ears flattening to his head. He begins to reach for your wrists to stop you, then halts in place as he knows you will just bat him away again. They ball frustratedly into fists. His eyes dart to the door again. “My love — ”
When the fabric makes it up his thighs, you press your lips against his, and as your tongue works its way into his mouth, Raha melts into you. You kiss him hard, sighing into one another. He has missed you. You can feel it in the way his own tongue lashes at the back of your mouth, though he obeys you by keeping his hands at his sides, for now. He is so good to you as a whole. You just want to take your time with him, make him feel wonderful.
When you are finished tangling your fingers in his hair, you break the kiss just as it is getting good, and you love how he bites your lip in protest and groans. But your hand stroking his erection through his underclothes convinces him to let go. He’s lifting his hips into your touch now, eyes falling shut with hums of pleasure. He wants you. You want him, and he doesn’t protest anymore when you tug his bottoms and smallclothes down to the floor at once. He doesn’t expect, however, for you to get on your knees first, and he yelps your name when you open his knees and lean forward to deliver an onslaught of kisses to his inner thigh. He won’t stop squirming as he clutches the chair the way he wants to clutch your shoulders, shuddering while your lips kiss up the crook of his leg toward his cock.
“You- you don’t... need to—! Raha makes a needy sound when you grab him and wrap your lips around him, sucking softly just at the tip for now. He whispers something under his breath, sinks his teeth into his lip while you do this.
“Tell me what I missed when I left?” You don’t let him revel in the sensations of your mouth for too long. His eyes widen, and for the moment, he only watches you in awe while you circle your tongue around his head.
“You want me to tell you… while you are undoing me? Truly, you are cruel...” Your response is a drawn-out lick along the underside of his shaft that makes him suck in a breath. He begins anyway, seeing how you already have him in the palm of your hands. Literally.
“The Crystarium has agreed to... provide certain… resources.” You take him back further in your mouth and try not to have a wry look about you as he gasps. “… To Eulmore— Oh! S-such as, ah, seeds for h-harvesting— Hah…! And we can also… volunteer… hands. For rebuilding the- the derelicts…”
Raha’s deep, husky voice has you feeling lonely as your pulse races beneath your own smallclothes. Satisfied with the answer he’s given you, you decide not to suffer your lover any further “cruelties.” Instead, you make good on that promise of reward and bob your head faster on his cock, making his beautiful red eyes flutter shut as he gives into you, sounds spilling muffled through the hand that he brings to his mouth. Can anyone actually hear him, you wonder? You have to lean forward over the chair so it’s a bit difficult to crane your neck up to see him, but what you catch of him is absolutely blissful, and now you only wish he would caress your hair while you pleasure him to the edge.
You know better than to go that far, however. And frankly, you want him to last so you can have him. So you draw back and release him with a loud suck.
Raha pants, his face flushed and eyebrows curled up tightly. He is a victim. He is left there throbbing by you, and you think you’ve never left him so teased or so desperately needing to be fucked. You feel guilty about it, but at the same time you can’t get enough of him like this. You love him so much, and yet—
You find yourself chuckling at how cute he is, staring up at him through heavy lashes as you slide your hand under your waistband and begin stroking yourself, an obvious wet spot showing on the outside of the article.
“Please... Please, finish me.” He finally begs, driven to taking himself in hand. You realize you’ve never seen him touch himself in front of you, and the sight sends a shiver running down your spine to your sex. And even though he craves release, he craves it more with you, as evidenced by how painfully slow he strokes himself.
When Raha utters that he wants you, you cannot tear the last of your clothing off fast enough, and when you climb back onto his lap you put his hands on you —because in the end, you will gladly break all the stupid rules in the existence, if G’raha Tia asks nice enough . Those hands clamber at your waist and you throw your arms around his neck to kiss him hard, finding your body easily sinking down on him with how aroused you both are. And oh, he feels so right inside you. You tell him that as you rip the hair tie from your lover’s hair and watch it spill over the backside of the chair as his head falls back to your ministrations. Even now it is like a dance, the way you gently roll your hips on his cock. Raha provides the music for you; every sound that falls from his lips is like a love song, reverent and laden with your name. He uses his elbows to thrust underneath you and try to match your tempo. And when it does, you sing along with him.
“Ahh, close…” He rasps while you ride him harder yet in the chair, creaking it as you test the overall integrity of its legs with activities its likely never seen. You can feel yours coiling in you now too, each time he hits the right spot inside you. You bring your hand to your sex to work yourself closer and closer until finally your orgasm takes you, causing you to lurch forward and bite down into the fabric of Raha’s cowl. When your body gives out and makes you limp, you’re suddenly reminded of the Miqo’te’s strength as he holds you up and pulls you down onto his cock again and again until he feels more than full inside you. With stifled whimper, he uses the last of that stamina to withdraw himself. He comes hard and paints your front with his release, stroking himself through the waves, then carefully pulls you close.
You stay like that with Raha chuckling into your shoulder, both of you catching your breaths and regathering your wits while you lazily embrace. Eventually, you run your fingers through his soft hair and bring your lips to his forehead.
“I hope you liked my performance?”
Looking over him, he is debauched. His ears still flick in place while you touch him; a sign of oversensitivity, you’ve learned. And if he wasn’t tired from being here or sitting through the summit, he looks absolutely ready for bed now. You can’t help but giggle at him.
“It was enthralling. ” The choice of words makes you make a face. Raha steals a lingering kiss from your lips before turning somewhat sheepish. “And I love you… But next time, in our own rooms, please? I am pretty sure we have broken more than one rule for this establishment. And I would hate to see you barred from it when you seem to enjoy yourself so much.”
You are about to retort something when a knock sounds at the door, and you freeze in one another’s arms. Raha’s arms curl protectively around your naked body.
“Is everything all right in there? Move it along, if you can. We do need this room for our other patrons!”
You laugh nervously.