For Your Consideration: Crit Role After Dark

"... Asune, what is this?" It was earlier in the morning than he preferred to be awake which meant Azune h been awake for a few hours. One of these days he was going to figure out how to get that man to enjoy a lazy lay-in. Perhaps sleepy morning sex would sway him, Julien could wake him up with a hand on his...

"It's a schedule?" The little uptick of his voice made it sound like a question, some confusion there. But then again Julien has found that Azune is frequently confused on some level about something, it's just that he hides it well. It's like he just files it away in his mind with a little question mark on it to think on later.

Julien rolls his eyes. "I know what a schedule is. I have trained many people at my time with the Barrowgaurd. I understand schedules."

"What was your question then?" Oh that just wasn't fair. Julien wasn't sure Azune knew exactly what his face looked like when he did that, the slightly wide eyes, the little tilt of his head, focusing in and looking so fucking helpful.

"What I mean, is this." It wasn't that Julien didn't have any patience, exactly, it was just that he usually found it to be disagreeable and pointless. He brought the paper over and pushed it in Azune's face, his finger on the words 'Julien's Spanking Schedule'.

"Oh." Azune seemed to relax a little, leaning forward to explain earnestly, "Well, everyone's only going to be in town for about ten days, so if you wanted to fit everyone in it's going to be a bit tricky, and I know you don't like using healing potions so you're going to need some rest days, but I figured some people could double up, I know you often see Hal and Bolaire together, and Teor and Kat make a great team, and everyone's got there own stuff to do while they're in town and...."

Julien held a hand up to interrupt him. "My sex life does not require a... a schedule." Even while at Castle Torch things had been generally handled in a much more informal manner.

"Ah." Azune looked down at the sheet thoughtfully. "But would it like it?" he continued carefully.

Julien sighed softly and sat down next to him. When had he become weak against this man's enduring drive to be helpful? He looked at from the paper to the man, the small, neat letters in such contrast to the broadness of the man whose presence loomed larger than his own body.

"You cannot put Thaisha the night after Teor and Kat, you know how big she likes to craft her phallus and how sore I'll be after those two......" His gruff words sent Azune's fingers scrambling to make adjustments, but it was worth it to see that little smile on his face.

It was nice to be in the company of people who cared for each other deeply, he supposed. Even if said care sometimes took the form of odd lists. And he couldn't deny the prospect of such a week was enticing.

Julien wasn't always good with words. But perhaps he could find a way to thank him before they parted ways today.

Azune nuzzled the back of Julien's neck. The other man's body was lax against him, his breathing easy, content and pliant as he only got after a particularly rough fucking.

"It's your birthday next week," he offered quietly, fingers carefully brushing curls aside to find more sweat to kiss away.

"It is." Julien stretches out for a moment without leaving the security of his arms. "Everyone is coming into town, it will be nice to see them."

"Mhm. Anything you'd like for your birthday?" Azune was terrible at selecting gifts for people, and was feeling particularly out of his depth with... Whatever Julien was to him these days. He could usually tell what people needed, or wanted him to be but gifts were a puzzling engima.

Julien seemed to consider this, then turned slowly in his arms with a look on his face that Azune had no issue reading as trouble. "Well, there is always the traditional..." he grinned as he let his voice trail off suggestively.

"What is that?"

Julien doesn't show anyone his tears. He runs away, he walks away, I'm pretty sure he'd pull a bag over his head if he was cornered.

Sex is clearly where he lets some of his emotions out. And getting fucked face down into something can be good but if someone's big enough to be rough enough with him they could flip him over. It's happened once or twice and the results were not sexy.

Dicks are nice because if they are long enough or wide enough you can choke on them. It's expected, even desired sometimes. Julien is not above a little ego management, he's known by reputation, if even *he* is choking on you... Well.

The problem with dicks is, not to put it too delicately, you're on a schedule. And Julien's own pride does not allow a sub-standard blowjob unless under VERY specific circumstances.

So decent enough for a quick cry, but not ideal for anything more drawn out. Which, well, Julien has a lot of emotions he's not dealing with, so.

(Now if you can find a partner willing to slap you around after instead of something annoying like wiping your face, then game on.)

Pussy on the other hand is an excellent option for hiding crying. Julien likes a solid individual sitting on his face as much as the next guy, but for crying purposes he has found that it's better to be in more control to prevent awkwardly timed changes in position. On his knees is good, but laying down is the best.

He's worked hard to develop a reputation as a skilled lover, and most people seem to understand that if you're on your back with Sir Julien Davinos between your legs, it's best to just relax and enjoy while he takes his time. He can keep his face properly buried the whole time, there's plenty of other fluids to disguise the tears, and his hair hides any glances, even if fistfuls are being yanked or used to provide directions.

Like she's been around mortals before, but this one was HERS, and she sees no reason not to plop herself up on top of a wardrobe and observe.

It's not like the Fae don't have their own mating rituals, and those are not seen as something to hide away particularly. So she lays on her stomach and makes herself comfortable and watches Her Mortal and his new wife.

It's about a week later when Aranessa catches a glimpse of her. It's not like she was HIDING hiding, they just didn't seem to want to be interrupted! The lady only laughed, she has grown up among the Fae and was accustomed to their particularities. But Thjazi's green skin had turned the warm and darker, and she had found herself firmly evicted for the evening.

Pouting and plotting revenge, she found the young knight assigned to The Lady lurking nearby as he often did. Thimble approved of this, she had thought it would have been more sensible to keep him closer by, ideally sleeping directly inside or outside his lady's chambers, but Thjazi had inexplicably seen to it that his quarters were on the opposite side of the same wing.

Young Julian seemed unusually interested as she ranted about what she'd seen in great detail. Perhaps he too had been similarly thoughtlessly dismissed? He also seemed sympathetic to her complaints that she would never understand mortals properly if she was not allowed to observe, it's what Fae folk did!!

"Perhaps you would like to accompany me to Madam Melanies sometime? They have all manner of comely mortals there who will engage in every... What did you say? Mortal Mating Rituals? That one can imagine and some one cannot... For the right price. And if we are the ones paying... No one will be removing you while I am there."

"Oh!! I know where to get gold!"

*******

And that's how Thimble and Julien became Whore House Buddies. And how she got her voyeurism steak. And funded him getting laid.

Hal picks up the Mask. It's no longer a foreign action, but he's careful and deliberate regardless. Bolaire does not allow him to be 'careful' with him, in fact often demanded the opposite in no uncertain terms.

But the Mask can't put up any resistance. It can't roll its eyes when Hal makes sure to use two hands. It can't make cutting remarks to distance itself from a soft touch or brush of lips.

It can't distance itself at all.

It stays in Hal's hands safe and pliant, and when Hal moves to the bed and sets it down on a pillow he is allowed to make sure it's securely placed, that no errant bump will send it so much as slowly sliding down to the soft mattress beneath.

(Another mask, held differently, shattered against a wall, an image banished when his lover is here... but is he?)

There's no rush to undressing, but he doesn't linger, the act for someone who's not here. There's no need to be careful with that. That will come later, as unavoidable as the tides or the grey skies or young men at war too young.

Bolaire is always careful with him.

He lays on his side, bringing one hand up to touch the Mask. There's a shame in this, in touching what cannot reject him, cannot reject his care or his devotion. Or his love.

(But wasn't it always easier to love a thing, wasn't his passion for his theatre cleaner, easier to hold and cherish than the men and women in his bed, the ones who would become family but never bind themselves to him? Would never have to feel his love untempered?)

There's beauty in it too. He doesn't close his eyes, the Mask cannot keep watch, so he will do it for it. He will do everything for it, as sure and unnoted as the moons above, as the silent rings in the sky that empass the world, their steadiness making them unremarkable.

Three breathes, four, ten. He doesn't touch himself, although the ache is there. Perhaps someday Bolaire will forget that particular instruction. Someday he will linger here longer with the Mask, touching himself, touching it, perhaps even.....

A thought for another day. He brushes a kiss to the Mask's lips. He has lingered selfishly enough, is careful to tuck the thoughts and images and imaginings aside. Not far, Bolaire is always so careful not to go through closed doors in his mind. Even ones he can't bear to lock.

He puts on the Mask, and it is gone.

Someone putting them naked on their knees, braiding their hair together, the black and red in beautiful contrast in a single plait. Blindfolded and forced to work together, moaning when the other moves too suddenly and pulls the combined locks.

There's just enough room left that when they're both finished being pleasing they can nuzzle at each other's lips as Azune pulls Julien protectively into his arms. He won't be able to see the marks left on the other's skin until morning, when the blindfolds come off and their hair is freed. For the moment he just lets his fingertips run over soft skin, cataloging every hitched breath and shiver, doing his best to match them to what he heard earlier.

... Azune riding Hal, wrists bound over his head, just enough room to rock his hips, sweat sticking whisps of hair to his cheeks, thighs trembling as he moves, no idea how long he's been here or how much longer he will be kept.

Murray standing to the side, one hand occasionally giving his ass an encouraging smack, the other between his legs, making sure he stays right on that edge. It's precise and soothing, she knows her boy inside and out and her mind calms with the satisfaction of controlling every variable to suit her ends, crafting the exact outcome she desires.

He tries so hard not to come before someone gives him permission but it's so hard with all his weight driving Hal's impressive cock deep inside him, filling him the way he's needed all day and it makes him whine and he knows it won't be long before he's begging.

Bolaire lounging next to Hal on the bed, perhaps with Hal's head in his lap, fingers gentle in his hair, enjoying the show and ribbing Murray. It's the perfect way to unwind and he likes how they include him without pressing for more than he's comfortable with. When Hal starts to make *those* noises, though, he can't help but slip a leather covered finger in his mouth.