#bodain

It wasn’t long before Bodhi Durran had walked through the door, shutting it behind him immediately. Dain didn’t need to ask if he had made sure no one noticed—the stakes were high for Bodhi too, if not more so.

They hadn’t done much talking the first time, too twisted up in their thoughts about how wrong it was. A traitor’s son and a colonel’s son. It was a scandal, an act that would get Dain disowned.

They had silenced their thoughts and unspoken words with kissing and biting and squeezing a little too tight, gasping and moaning as they took what they needed from each other.

And when it was over, Bodhi dressed silently, dipped his chin in goodbye, and walked out the door.

Dain had thought that would be the last time he would see him outside of classes and formation, but somehow they kept coming back to each other. Dain sneaking around his father and Bodhi lying to his cousin. It was a mess that would get them in a shitload of trouble if their respective keepers ever found out.

So that’s why Dain pretended to walk downstairs in search of a snack only to come up with nothing, and instead of taking the staircase that led to his room he walked to the one on the other side of the rotunda. The one that led to Bodhi’s end of the first-year dorms.

He looks both ways down the hall before rapping a specific rhythm on the door with his knuckles.

The door opens and Dain is quickly yanked inside, pressed up against the door, Bodhi’s lips on his neck.

“I missed you,” Bodhi says, his words muffled as he mouths at Dain’s skin.

Dain lets his head fall back, his hand sliding up to thread through the hair on the back of Bodhi’s head. “I missed you, too.”

Bodhi drags his tongue slowly up the side of Dain’s neck, teasing the sensitive skin until he reaches the lobe of his ear. He slips it between his teeth, tugging gently, and Dain moans at the delicious ache, fingers pressing into Bodhi’s firm abdomen and sliding over the hard planes of his chest. His other hand tightens in Bodhi’s hair, tugging him closer, guiding his lips to meet his own in a hungry, fevered kiss.

Dain is once again struck by how soft Bodhi’s lips are—plump, pink, and impossibly smooth against his own. He parts his mouth slightly, slipping his tongue out to trace the curve of Bodhi’s lower lip, a silent demand for entry. Bodhi yields instantly, opening to him, letting Dain explore with slow, teasing strokes of his tongue. Their breaths mingle, warm and ragged, as Dain presses his chest firmly against Bodhi’s, feeling the taut muscle beneath his hands. With a gentle but insistent shove, he corrals Bodhi toward the bed, and together they topple onto the mattress in a tangled heap.

With Bodhi now beneath him, Dain presses down, grinding his hard cock against Bodhi’s. A low, satisfied smirk spreads across his face as he feels Bodhi’s body respond just as eagerly as his own as he arches to meet him.

Bodhi pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving and lips swollen. “Clothes,” he rasps, voice low and urgent, fingers fidgeting at Dain’s shoulders as if the physical restraint is driving him wild.

He doesn’t have to tell Dain twice. Rolling off Bodhi and sitting up, Dain peels his shirt over his head, unlaces his boots, and shimmies out of his pants. When he glances back at Bodhi, he finds him completely bare as well. Dain can’t stop himself from letting his gaze roam hungrily over Bodhi’s body. He looks like a god—tawny brown skin glowing under the soft mage light, sculpted muscles begging to be touched or tasted. Dain’s mouth waters at the thought, imagining running his tongue over the ridges, feeling them tense under his lips. And then there’s Bodhi’s thick cock, standing proud, practically demanding attention, and Dain groans at the sight, his own cock pulsing in response.

“The usual?” Bodhi asks with a wicked smirk, pupils dark and wide with lust.

Dain scoots until his back reaches the headboard, letting his fingers rake through his hair as he exhales slowly. “You know what to do,” he confirms, eyes fixed on Bodhi.

Bodhi crawls up the bed until he settles between Dain’s legs, lying on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows. His hand wraps around the shaft of Dain’s cock while his tongue flicks out to tease the tip, tasting him with deliberate, slow swirls.

Dain’s breath hitches, his hips twitch involuntarily. The wet, hot friction of Bodhi’s tongue swirling around his sensitive head sends sharp pulses of pleasure radiating through him, making him groan, desperate for more.

Bodhi looks absolutely riveting like this—pink tongue darting, brown eyes locked solely on Dain’s cock, muscles in his neck and arms flexing as he holds himself steady. Dain can’t tear his eyes away. Over the past few months, this routine, this song and dance has become almost addictive. He’s had to stop himself from thinking too far into it. It’s one thing to have a one-night stand, but they keep coming back to each other, drawn together like moths to a flame.

The risk they’re taking if anyone ever found out, the consequences they’d face… they don’t matter when Dain is with Bodhi. To him, Bodhi is worth the risk, and his chest tightens when he considers that Bodhi might feel the same. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

Dain moans and shivers as Bodhi trails wet, feather-light kisses down his shaft, fingers gliding over the smooth skin of his cock. The sensation makes his thighs tremble, a much needed distraction from the thoughts swirling in his mind. The kind of thoughts that only lead him down one road: heartbreak. His other hand fists the sheets, knuckles white, as he reaches down to card through Bodhi’s curls, tangling his fingers between the silky strands.

“Don’t be a tease,” he growls, every syllable laced with need. “Suck my cock like you mean it.” He loses himself in the routine, in his dominating and Bodhi’s eager obedience, chasing the thrill while trying to silence the questions he’s not sure he wants the answers to.

Bodhi looks up at him, lips curving into a cocky, knowing grin. “Yes, sir.”

Without another word, his mouth wraps around Dain’s cock, warm and wet, while his hand moves to the base, twisting and stroking in perfect rhythm with the bob of his head. Dain groans, fingers tangling tighter in Bodhi’s curls, the muscles in his body coiling and tensing with every teasing pull. His toes curl against the mattress, hips twitching, chest heaving—being in Bodhi’s mouth is pure torture and pleasure all at once.

It’s his second favorite thing—the first, of course, being buried inside Bodhi’s tight hole. The way Bodhi makes him feel is unfair, a heady mix of raw need and dizzying desire. He’s had his share of lovers, both men and women, but none of them ever made him feel this—completely undone, entirely consumed by one person.

He can feel the blunt head of his cock hitting the back of Bodhi’s throat, each swallow tightening around him. The wet, obscene sounds of saliva and suction echo in the quiet room, every gasp for air and muffled choke swallowed down by the steady rhythm of Bodhi’s mouth. Strings of spit cling between them when he pulls back only to slide down again.

“Just like that,” Dain groans, using his hold on Bodhi’s hair to push him down farther. “Such a good boy for me.”

Bodhi hums softly around Dain’s cock, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure straight through him. His hand and mouth move with increasing fervor, slick and relentless, while those deep brown eyes lock onto Dain’s, wide and pleading, silently begging for him to lose control. Dain groans, hips twitching, the sound of Bodhi’s hum and the sight of his eager gaze pushing him closer and closer to the edge, every nerve in his body screaming for release.

Dain tuts, his free hand coming up to cup Bodhi’s cheek, thumb brushing along the smooth skin. “I know,” he murmurs, almost cooing. “I’m going to fill your mouth with my cum soon. You’ll swallow it all down, won’t you?”

Bodhi swallows around him, and nods enthusiastically, letting out a brief, ragged gasp as the movement pushes Dain’s cock further down his throat. He chokes lightly, but the eagerness in his expression only fuels Dain’s growing urgency.

“Fuck, right there, Bodhs. Keep going, keep going,” Dain groans, his voice breaking on the last word as his hips cant upward to meet Bodhi’s mouth. His fingers thread tight into Bodhi’s hair, urging him down with each desperate thrust. His head falls back against the pillows, throat bared, eyes screwing shut as his breath grows ragged. Every flick of Bodhi’s tongue, every pull of suction has his muscles tightening, a ripple of hot, unbearable pleasure coursing through him. His thighs tremble, hips jerking in uneven rhythm as he chases it, sweat beading at his temples.

“Shit—Bodhi—” he gasps, voice hoarse as the tension snaps. His whole body tenses, hand gripping the back of Bodhi’s head to hold him in place as he spills down his throat. A broken groan tears from his lips as his release wracks every inch of him, leaving him undone beneath Bodhi’s mouth.

Bodhi pushes himself up on his elbows, tongue darting out to lick at the corners of his mouth, a pleased, almost smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Fuck,” Dain sighs, breathless, chest rising and falling with every ragged inhale. “That was perfect.”

Bodhi smirks, crawling up the bed until he’s hovering above Dain. He leans down, capturing Dain’s lips in a hungry, heated kiss. Dain groans into it, stretching his neck to deepen the press of their mouths together. But Bodhi pulls away far too soon.

“My turn,” Bodhi says, voice low and teasing as he slides back down the bed.

Dain laughs, then groans as he rises to his knees, cock already straining with anticipation.

Bodhi arches an eyebrow, lips curling into a wicked smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re too sore to fuck me, old man,” he teases.

Scoffing, Dain smacks Bodhi’s ass in warning, making him yelp and wiggle. “I’m only a few months older than you,” he says, “and you’re going to regret that.”

“Is that so?” Bodhi replies, voice silky and provocative.

Dain grabs him firmly by the hips, maneuvering him onto all fours. He leans over him, cock pressing against the curve of Bodhi’s ass, and brings his mouth to his ear. “I know so,” he whispers, teeth grazing the lobe, watching as goosebumps ripple across Bodhi’s smooth skin.

He reaches over to the nightstand, yanking open the drawer and pulling out the bottle of lube. Bodhi shivers beneath him the moment the cap cracks open, a low gasp escaping him.

“Don’t act scared now,” Dain mocks, voice laced with amusement. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You just can’t help acting like a brat.”

“I do no such thing,” Bodhi protests, throwing a glance over his shoulder, lips tugging into a shit-eating grin.

Dain coats his fingers in lube, swirling it deliberately around Bodhi’s tight hole. The sight of Bodhi’s body tensing beneath his touch, the small whimper that slips out, makes Dain’s cock twitch with anticipation. He leans closer, brushing a finger over the sensitive rim, teasing, and the way Bodhi writhes under him sends a thrill straight through his spine.

He slowly pushes one finger in, Bodhi’s body jerking at the intrusion, but Dain’s grip on his hip keeps him in place. His thumb strokes over Bodhi’s skin in a steady rhythm, grounding him as he works his finger deeper, twisting just enough to make Bodhi gasp. Bodhi’s hole clenching around his finger has Dain’s teeth gritting, an appreciative groan spilling from him as he begins to ease in and out, stretching him. Each thrust draws another shiver from Bodhi’s body, his muscles tensing and loosening beneath Dain’s palm, until he’s rocking back against the touch, chasing the pressure despite the burn.

“Dain—fuck,” Bodhi chokes out, voice breaking as his thighs tremble. He moans when Dain pushes deeper, the sound raw and desperate, his hips thrusting helplessly against the mattress.

“That’s it, Bodhs,” Dain praises, pushing in a second finger beside the first. Bodhi cries out, a sharp whine caught in his throat, but Dain doesn’t let up, scissoring his fingers to open him wider. His other hand tightens on Bodhi’s hip, keeping him steady as he writhes beneath the stretch.

“Gods, it’s—too much,” Bodhi gasps, knuckles white where they clutch at the sheets. Still, his body betrays him, pressing back onto Dain’s hand even as his chest heaves with the effort of taking it. A strangled moan spills out of him when Dain brushes just right inside, his whole body shuddering.

“You can take it,” Dain says huskily, curling his fingers to press deeper. Bodhi’s breath hitches, then turns into a broken cry as his hips roll back, greedy for more. “You’re being such a good boy for me. Taking what I give you. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Withdrawing his fingers slowly, Dain lines himself up, the thick head of his cock nudging against Bodhi’s entrance. “Relax for me, Bodhs,” he rasps, pressing a firm kiss to the small of his back.

Bodhi shudders, forehead pressed to the sheets. “Dain—please—just do it,” he begs.

Dain pushes forward slowly, stretching him open inch by inch. Bodhi gasps, a strangled noise caught between pain and need, fists twisting in the sheets as his back arches. Dain moans, the tight hole swallowing him inch by inch until his hips are flush with Bodhi’s.

“Fuck—you feel so good,” Dain growls, chest pressed to Bodhi’s back as he gives him a moment to adjust, the muscles in his jaw ticking with restraint.

Bodhi’s breathing comes in harsh pants, every exhale punctuated by a soft moan. “So full—gods, I can feel all of you,” he whimpers, hips twitching back against him despite the stretch.

“Good boy,” Dain breathes, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in, a steady rhythm building as Bodhi cries out beneath him, body trembling with every thrust.

Bodhi claws at the sheets, forehead pressed to the mattress as broken sounds spill out of him. “Dain—fuck—don’t stop—please, don’t stop,” he begs, his voice cracked and desperate, hips pushing back to meet each thrust.

Dain leans over to mouth at Bodhi’s shoulder, teeth scraping lightly against flushed skin. “Never gonna stop, Bodhs. Not when you feel this good around me,” he rasps, one hand sliding beneath Bodhi to wrap around his cock. The moment his palm closes over him, Bodhi cries out.

Every stroke of Dain’s hand is timed to the relentless snap of his hips, dragging him closer and closer to the edge. Bodhi’s thighs shake, his whole body shuddering, the muscles of his ass gripping tight around Dain’s cock.

“Can’t—fuck, Dain, I’m gonna—” Bodhi chokes out, his voice breaking as his release builds fast.

“Come for me,” Dain urges, thrusts growing rougher, faster, his breath hot and ragged against Bodhi’s ear. “Come all over my hand like the needy boy you are.”

Bodhi shatters with a wrecked cry, his body locking up as he spills cum across Dain’s fist and the sheets beneath them. His muscles clamp down around Dain in rhythmic spasms, dragging a guttural groan from him.

“Fuck—Bodhi—” Dain grits out, hips snapping forward hard one last time before he buries himself deep, spilling inside him with a hoarse shout. His whole body trembles with the force of it, forehead pressed between Bodhi’s shoulder blades as he rides out the waves, cock twitching inside his hole.

For a long moment, only the sound of their labored breathing fills the room. Dain loosens his hold, smoothing his palm down Bodhi’s trembling side, grounding him as the aftershocks ripple through both of them.

“Holy shit,” Bodhi pants, voice muffled against the sheets, though a shaky laugh slips out.

Dain presses a soft kiss to his damp shoulder, still buried deep inside him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “Holy shit.”

He stays there for another beat, buried deep inside Bodhi, his chest pressed to the curve of Bodhi’s back, just breathing him in. Then carefully, he eases out, murmuring an apology when Bodhi winces at the stretch. Dain’s hand smooths gently down his spine.

“Easy, Bodhs. I’ve got you,” he whispers, coaxing him onto his side. He relishes ‌the way Bodhi looks soft and dazed, flushed cheeks damp with sweat, lips parted as he tries to catch his breath.

Dain brushes damp hair back from his forehead, cupping his cheek with warm fingers. “You okay?” he asks, searching his face.

Bodhi blinks up at him, still catching his breath, and then lets out a breathless laugh. “More than okay. Just—wrecked.”

A crooked smile tugs at Dain’s lips, but his hand doesn’t leave Bodhi’s face, thumb tracing over his cheekbone. “Good wrecked, though?”

“Good wrecked,” Bodhi confirms, his grin lazy and content.

Dain leans down, kissing him slowly. When he pulls back, he murmurs, “Stay here. Don’t move.”

He slips out of bed, tugging a towel from the drawer and dampening it with a pitcher of water, then returns to clean Bodhi with careful strokes. Bodhi huffs a laugh at the fussing, but his body relaxes into every touch, letting Dain do it. When he’s finished, Dain cleans himself up, then tosses the towel aside, sliding under the covers, and pulls Bodhi against his chest.

Dain’s hand drifts in slow, steady strokes along Bodhi’s side, his gaze fixed on the silver glow of the moon outside the window.

“What’s on your mind?” Bodhi murmurs.

Dain glances down and finds Bodhi already watching him. “You usually leave right after.”

“Oh.” Bodhi’s expression falters, his lips pressing together as he shifts like he might rise. But before he can, Dain gently tugs him back down.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to go,” he says quickly. “I just—do you want to stay? You can, if you’d like. I’d like it.”

Bodhi’s mouth curves into a soft smile, his head tipping in a small nod. “I would like that.”

Relief flickers across Dain’s face. “Good.”

Bodhi hums contentedly, curling into him, head tucked beneath Dain’s chin. “You’re warm,” he mumbles, already half-asleep.

Dain tightens his arm around him, pressing a kiss to his temple.