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You, In My Hand

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Griffith opened his eyes, focusing on the sway of the curtains in the light night breeze. He heard Charlotte's quiet, steady breathing next to him- she had a habit of immediately falling asleep after having sex. It simply was something that Griffith did nowadays, there were no emotions attached, of course. He surely didn't feel human. Ever since he had come back to earth, being reborn, there was a silent void in him, he didn't feel much if anything at all, and all he saw was that glimmer at the end of the tunnel that was his dream.

His dream was in full bloom, he had brought paradise to earth and was so close to completion and yet, why did the thought of him always come back to him?

The man exhaled audibly as he closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was in that tent together with Guts again. Guts. The only thing left that lingered, that made his heart beat, sometimes. He remembered those hot summer nights, when they had disappeared together, sometimes Guts was tipsy and there was always something stubborn, yet pliant about him. Two words that were on opposite sides of a spectrum, but they described Guts quite well. Furrowed brows, with a red tint on his cheeks.
Griffith had always been the one to take initiative as he quickly had found out that the tall, broad man had been inexperienced back then. It had started with a mere handjob.

Griffith had groped Guts' cock through his pants, before he had reached inside, his hand not able to completely close around the man's dick, thumb and index finger only meeting when Griffith had moved his hand up to the tip. They had sat down close to each other, Guts breathing heavily, before eventually a moan ripped from his throat, that had sounded so beautiful-

Griffith opened his eyes, as he looked down at himself, before he slowly pulled the thin silk cover off, his own cock twitching, half-hard already. He took it into his hand, stroking slowly as his gaze wandered to Charlotte, that was still sleeping peacefully next to him. Anyone should have been happy to soon be wed to such a delicate, beautiful princess, but the only person Griffith had ever loved was the complete opposite of Charlotte.

He looked away, as the grip around his cock strengthened, closing his eyes again. Guts' skin had been so dark in contrast to himself, scars littered across the rough skin, both old and fresh, and he had memorized every single one of them, even now he could have drawn a map of the man's skin, every dent telling a story of its own.
Guts' dark hair always had looked so dense too, but it had been surprisingly soft, fluffy underneath Griffith's fingertips. Especially, when he had held onto his hair for support.

One night in particular surprisingly Guts had approached Griffith on his own, one thing leading to another, before the silver-haired man was leaning up against a table, Guts kneeling between his legs, Griffith's cock in the swordman's mouth, engulfed by wet, warm heat.
Griffith shuddered, a wave of lust shooting through his body once again. He brought his fingers up to his mouth wetting them, before pulling back his foreskin, wet finger tips circling the sensitive tip delicately, as he just so managed to surpress an excited moan, his saliva leaving a sheen on his glans. Squeezing the tip, he brought an arm up to his face, forearm covering his eyes now as he started to jack himself off properly, quickly.

In his head, it wasn't just his hand, but a sloppy blowjob, a pair of lips around his hard-on. Guts hadn't been good at it at first, Griffith had to tell him to mind his teeth, but before he knew it the other man had been overly eager, trying to take him in completely, just to end up choking, gagging. Griffith had seen the hint of wet tears in Guts' eyes as he simply continued, bringing Griffith to completion rather quickly.

"Ah-", Griffith's arm slid down slightly, his forearm now pressing up against his plump lips as his hand was moving up and down rapidly, basically abusing his leaking cock with heavy pressure, before his body contorted, and he came, white streaks of cum shooting across his abdomen, as he continued to pump his manhood, riding out the orgasm, milking every drop, as he had bitten down on his arm to keep his mouth shut, the taste of blood invading his senses.

His body fell limp, before he noticed Charlotte shuffling around, but the young woman simply ended up turning her back on him. Griffith lowered his arm, breathing heavily, shakily, through his nose before he stared at the ceiling, blankly.

There, again, the thought of Guts vanished just as quickly as it had crossed his mind, his heartbeat not noticeable anymore. Ghostly so.