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Estinien's distaste for moogles never truly went away after his first journey to the Churning Mists. Fortunately, the postmoogles tended to be quick about their business and less irritating in conversation, save for the occasional persistent pest, and his mood usually brightened upon seeing one. Not for their company, of course, but for the letters they came bearing.
Aymeric's handwriting was known for being pristine, fit for a leader of men and now a head of state, while his letters to Estinien were endearing in their comparative messiness with no need for pretense. Estinien grinned, seeing the familiar way his name was scratched across the envelope in deep blue ink. But before he could open it to read the correspondence inside, the moogle started squeaking at him again and shoving something against his elbow.
"What?" Estinien asked, his tone already turning prickly. His flare of irritation faded when he realized it was a package with his name written on it in matching script. "Ah, my thanks," he corrected, holding out his hand for the moogle to drop it. The package was rather small and slim, roughly the size of a small dagger or perhaps a folding fan the likes of which he often saw in souvenir shops around Kugane. It was light in his palm, so it could have been either.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he forwent the envelope to quickly pull open the wrapping and the box inside, only to find an ornate, blue mask.
He recognized the very specific invitation and raised an eyebrow.
"Looks fancy..."
Estinien flinched before turning his head to glare at the postmoogle flying around him with an open air of curiosity.
"I said thanks, now bugger off," he warned, pocketing the mask and stepping away.
The moogle harumphed indignantly, then promptly vanished from view. Knowing that just because he couldn't see one didn't mean they had actually left, Estinien held his letter protectively tight and swiftly left the crowded market streets to head towards the For'ard Cabins, not interested in letting the nosy creature snoop any further into his business.
Once he was comfortably alone in his rented room—after a few threats towards the open air veranda in case he'd been followed—he swiftly ripped open his letter. The parchment inside had the faintest scent of Aymeric's favored fragrance. It made Estinien smile.
My friend,
Starlight approaches! I seldom get to participate these days despite the season's plethora of events, but the St. Elodette Ball will be held on an evening when I am free. I've already arranged for my attendance, and I made sure to request an invitation for you as well.
I do not expect you to join us, but if you happen to have an evening to spare from your travels, it would be a pleasure to see you. And as I know how little you care about the tradition, rest assured the only required part of the night's dress code is the mask I've sent you.
As for myself, though the large costume you sent has been put to great use, for the ball I will be wearing something a bit more... slimming. Should that tempt you.
Ever yours,
Aymeric
Estinien's thumb pressed hard against his lip where he had been rubbing it unconsciously. He hadn't attended a St. Elodette Ball since the days when the Coerthan landscape was still green and, as far as he knew, Aymeric hadn't attended in near as long either. While masquerade parties were not uncommon in Ishgard, this particular event was unusual for encouraging all of its participants to arrive wearing extravagant gowns, man or woman or otherwise; a tradition in honor of its namesake who, while yet donned in her wedding dress, slew her groom-to-be when she found him out as a heretic. A bit gauche, considering the transformed relationship between man and dragon these days. But admittedly little in Ishgard wasn't, though Aymeric kept Estinien abreast of all the efforts being made to steer her towards a brighter future without denying her dark, bloodied past.
However, that was not the matter that had Estinien's fingers crumpling the parchment where his grip grew tighter on Aymeric's missive.
Masquerade balls came part and parcel with an implied invitation for another, more private afterparty, where the trappings of one's place in society could be forgotten and desires could be indulged; a night where neither names nor faces were tied to the bodies coming together in pleasure and release.
Even an ocean away, Estinien felt no fear that Aymeric had any intentions of joining such a thing. But what he did not care for was the idea that other attendees of the St. Elodette Ball could see Aymeric unescorted and believe they had an opportunity to invite him to partake, regardless of how certain he was that Aymeric would not accept. Fishing the invitation and its packaging out of his pocket, he examined the items closely until he found a discreet card still tucked inside the box Aymeric had sent him, a date and evening hour written across it.
He would not be late.
~*~
Compared to the length of his journey to the new world, it was a simple thing to return home to Ishgard by way of its aetheryte, so before he made the short trip Estinien set out first to find a gift—even if his usual mishandling of coin was further exacerbated by the differing currencies used throughout Tural. At least Estinien could trust Aymeric would care more about the gesture than the price.
But by the time Estinien found something satisfactory after visiting various cities and settlements across Yok Tural and even the Alexandrian dome, the day of the ball had already arrived. Believing he still had much of the day left, he gathered his things from his lodgings, made sure his traveling clothes were decently clean, and teleported his way back to Ishgard, only to be reminded that the sun rose over Eorzea sooner than it did over the new world and he had arrived just as the shorter winter day was ending on this side of the star. He swore beneath his breath and leapt his way across the Pillars and towards the Borel estate in haste.
Never one to bother with the front entrance, Estinien jumped to the second story window that led into Aymeric's bedroom and found it unlocked, easily slipping inside.
The familiar room was bathed in warmth from a crackling fire alight in the hearth. As he closed the window behind him, Estinien's eyes went straight for the old clock standing by Aymeric's desk and he sighed with relief to see he had made it with bells to spare. Reassured that he wasn't late after all, Estinien looked about in search of the man he had come seeking to shield from any leering, hungry eyes aside his own. The bed was yet unmade with discarded clothes strewn across it while lit candles sat atop the bedside table, desk and vanity. Clear signs that Aymeric had yet to depart for the ball, but where was he?
"Aymeric?" he called, wondering if he would have to go search the first floor instead.
"Estinien!" Aymeric's voice answered with bright cheer, coming from down the hall, "My letter found you after all!"
"Aye," Estinien said with a smile, unable and uninterested in trying to smother it. He walked towards the doorway and leaned against its frame, now able to see the light spilling out past the washroom's door where it was slightly ajar.
"I'll be just another moment," Aymeric said from where he was yet hidden, "Though, if I may ask a favor of you?"
"Hm?"
"Close your eyes."
Estinien blinked in surprise at the request, then grinned wide. Obediently, he squeezed his eyes shut, but not without teasing, "Your invitation mentioned something about enticing me with whatever it is you're wearing, but now that I've arrived, you aren't going to let me see it?"
"Of course I wish to show you," Aymeric replied playfully, "but allow me the dignity of presenting it somewhere other than my washroom."
"Aye, very well then," Estinien said with a chuckle. He heard the door creak and resisted the temptation to peek an eye open. Once he was satisfied that Estinien wouldn't betray the request, Aymeric slipped into the hallway and came to Estinien's side, bringing a hand up to cover Estinien's eyes for good measure before leading him back into the bedroom with a gentle push. Estinien let himself be guided, always content to be at the mercy of Aymeric's touch. Even with his eyelids firmly kept shut, he was so used to the space that he could tell where Aymeric had him come to a stop a few ilms from the foot of the bed.
"Keep them closed," Aymeric instructed as his hands fell away. If his eyes were open, Estinien would have been rolling them affectionately, but he did as he was told, listening to Aymeric close the bedroom door then walk past him towards the vanity. There was the sound of skin against fabric as he adjusted whatever he was wearing, and Estinien instinctively licked his lips.
Then, after a few more torturous, tantalizing ticks of the clock hands behind him, Aymeric finally whispered, "You may look now."
Estinien at last allowed his eyes to open, and his lighthearted grin flew right off his face.
He had expected a gown; the kind the noblewomen wore, with large skirts down to their ankles, a ruffled but covered bust, and long voluminous sleeves. Proper attire for an evening about with any kind of company. But Aymeric was not wearing that kind of gown.
He didn't appear to be wearing much of anything at all.
"Do you like it?" Aymeric asked. Though he sounded amused, Estinien couldn't tell what expression he was making, his gaze transfixed on the tiny slip of so-called clothing Aymeric was wearing.
The "dress" was not Ishgardian-styled, or even Thavnarian-styled despite clearly being made of the Thavnarian weave Estinien had sent him, instead looking more like an undergarment or a nightgown. There were no sleeves or straps, the bust held tight around Aymeric's modest chest by naught save a prayer. He wore a shawl of sheer material draped around his shoulders, but despite its navy color it did nothing to obscure the enticing skin of his long, slender neck and handsome shoulders. The rich blue garment clung tight to his body to show off every angle and curve, and a faint pattern that looked like feathered dragon wings was sewn up his sides in thin golden thread.
And as Estinien's eyes dragged further down, he hissed in a breath through his nose when his focus reached the exposed skin of Aymeric's thighs, the tight hemline stopping far above his knees.
Save for the crackling firewood and slow-moving hands of the clock, the room was silent for a long time.
"Your mouth is hanging open, Ser," Aymeric teased eventually. Estinien's eyes were still stuck on the pretty, pale flesh of his legs and he hadn't noticed his jaw dropping open, but his mouth snapped shut with a click of his teeth at Aymeric's voice. When he tried to swallow, he found that he couldn't, tongue and throat gone entirely dry. Absently, he was aware that his slacks had grown tight where his cock was already stiff and eager against his leg, but he couldn't think or move beyond his astonishment.
Estinien considered himself decently traveled by now. He hadn't seen everything there was to see, but he had seen a fair bit, even so far as the end of the universe and another shard of their world. But wherever he had been, he'd never seen anything like this.
"I passed off the lovely thread you sent my way to Mistress Tataru, you see. She was eager to try out a new design of hers and had this custom made for me. 'Tis not a style I'd ever seen before, but I do find it quite fetching... and I was hoping you would as well."
Of course. That devil woman.
"Aymeric—" Estinien croaked as his body finally jerked into motion. Hearing the name of one Tataru Taru had Estinien moving forward, leading Aymeric to step back until he was pushed against his vanity where Estinien crowded him further against it, as if he could hide Aymeric away from the rest of the world—or at least from the maniacal hands of that terrifying Lalafellin woman. Estinien's legs were spread wide, trapping Aymeric's tight between them, and as he gripped Aymeric by the waist and leaned further in, their hips pressed flushed together. Aymeric gasped lightly, then hummed with satisfaction at the touch of Estinien's erection pressing into him. No longer able to see the exposed skin of Aymeric's thighs in this new position, Estinien's eyes at last dragged back upward to fixate on Aymeric's face; soft cheeks blushing pink, glossy lips slightly parted, and eyes hooded but twinkling with amusement in the firelight.
"So you do like it," Aymeric purred. He brought his hands up to Estinien's arms and stroked up and down over his worn jacket sleeves.
"Don't go," Estinien whispered gruffly, "to the ball—anywhere. Not in this."
Aymeric titled his head, eyebrows drawn up in a quizzical expression. Estinien's eyes dropped immediately to the alluring angle of his exposed neck and missed the amused smirk on Aymeric's face until he heard it in his voice.
"I've never known you to be so old-fashioned, Estinien. Have I scandalized you so?"
Estinien grunted and rolled his hips against Aymeric, hissing when he felt Aymeric shudder and moan in response.
"I don't care about scandal, Aymeric," Estinien said with a scoff before giving in and burying his face in Aymeric's neck, nosing the thin shawl out of his way. He inhaled deep, catching the scent of cinnamon and lemony citrus before kissing skin and tasting it on his tongue. "But I do care about you," he continued between kisses, "and your reputation, my dear Lord Speaker. And I fear I'm like to ruin it..."
Whether that was by fucking Aymeric in full view of every guest at the ball or by threatening violence against any who looked Aymeric's way—or, just as likely, both—Estinien wasn't sure.
Aymeric hummed while Estinien continued to kiss up and down his throat, not sounding opposed to whatever reputation-ruining scenario he was imagining. Estinien was quite familiar with Aymeric's enjoyment of the thrills of being caught and watched while in the throes of passion; a trait Estinien figured was brought on by the heavy weight of secrecy and scandal placed upon his shoulders since birth that had only recently been relieved at last. But there was a difference between the alluring risk of fucking in his office, not remembering whether the door had been locked, and putting on a show for all to see at a formal event. Especially when Estinien's gut squeezed unpleasantly at the thought.
Aymeric was too important a man to keep all to himself—save for at his most intimate, which Estinien wished to keep that way.
"I suppose you make a fair point..." Aymeric sighed, his breath tickling Estinien's ear.
With a light brush of his teeth along Aymeric's shoulder, Estinien pressed one more kiss to his skin then pulled away to meet Aymeric's eyes.
"So you won't go to the ball?"
"No," Aymeric said with a growing smile, looking all too pleased with himself, "provided you don't immediately depart now that I've agreed to remain here. The only one I wished to show this to was you, after all."
Estinien laughed with full relief, knocking their foreheads together. "I'm not certain the Fury Herself could pry me from you now."
Aymeric beamed at him then and slid his hands up to Estinien's cheeks to pull him into a kiss.
The easy, languid way Estinien lapped at Aymeric's tongue with his own was at odds with the straining need of his cock, trapped in his slacks and pinned against Aymeric's hip. But with the reassurance that he wouldn't have to fight off the whole of Ishgard to keep Aymeric to himself, he was content to let Aymeric lead their tempo. He allowed his hands to roam over the soft, silken fabric, from Aymeric's waist down to the curve of his ass until his fingers were halted by the wood of the vanity, feeling a deep gratefulness to Radz-at-Han for its artistry, a begrudging gratitude to Tataru for her frightening talents, and an appreciation for his own impulsiveness to buy anything that made him think of Aymeric during his travels.
"Ah," he mouthed against Aymeric's lips, suddenly remembering, "I brought you something."
Aymeric broke the kiss and leaned back to give Estinien a look of genuine surprise. "Oh?"
Estinien's fingers made one more greedy squeeze around Aymeric's hip before he pulled the hand away to rummage through the pockets of his coat. He found the box quickly and held it up between them for Aymeric to take.
"I don't know how many of my letters you've had a chance to read—"
"All of them. The moment they arrive," Aymeric said with emphasis, looking up from the box to make certain Estinien believed him. Estinien smiled, leaning in to give him a quick peck.
"Well then, you'll know what I mean when I say it's a gift from two worlds," he continued while Aymeric took the proffered gift and lifted its cover. "I found the threaded chain in Tuliyollal, but the lapis jewel is from the lands of Alexandria. I had it added to the necklace by an artisan in Kozama'uka."
When Estinien had seen the stone, he had been thinking of Aymeric's earring and hoped the accessories would match, but now, seeing it shine in the glittery reflection of Aymeric's blue eyes blown wide, he knew the choice had been perfect.
"I had thought you might wear it to the ball with your gown tonight. But perhaps another year."
"No. Let me wear it for you now."
Estinien paused, confusion seeping into his expression. With them no longer planning to attend the ball, he'd been hoping to remove what little Aymeric was wearing, not add to it. But when Aymeric's eyes lifted back upwards, bright with joy, Estinien obediently slipped the gift from his hands and laid it around his neck before clasping it carefully. Though the necklace's origins were two entirely different nations that were different still from the Thavnarian weave that made his dress, the simple, straight cut of Tataru's design paired beautifully with the piece of jewelry; the dark line of the threaded chain rested over collarbone and served to further accentuate the length of his neck, while the glistening lapis stone cut into the shape of a diamond dangled over his bust.
He was gorgeous, tantalizing, and all Estinien's.
With a deep inhale, Estinien's hands fell back to Aymeric's waist and held him firm as he pulled their hips together, grunting desperately when Aymeric rocked back against him.
"Aymeric..." he hissed, pleading as his eyes fell closed.
"Estinien, will you do as I say?" Aymeric asked, knowing full well the answer already. When Estinien nodded and grinded into him again, Aymeric let out a breath of a laugh. There was a quiet pause, until Estinien jerked and groaned deep at the gentle nibble of Aymeric's teeth along his ear. As his teeth eased away, Aymeric whispered against it, "Then sit on the bed, and take off your clothes."
The wave of desire that struck him left him clinging tight to Aymeric to keep his balance, and it took several more moments before he could steady himself enough to let go and obey his instructions. Once Estinien managed to pull away, he stripped hastily as he walked around to the right side of the bed out of habit—the side he favored whenever he stayed the night. Untying his boots took the most time, but after he kicked them loose and could slide his legs free of his pants, a shocked exhale pushed out of him at the relief of his cock no longer being trapped in his trousers. He hummed and sank into the edge of the bed with his legs splayed wide, stroking himself once, twice.
"Don't," came Aymeric's voice and Estinien shivered.
Looking back towards the vanity, he saw Aymeric watching him and licking his lips. His shawl was gone but the necklace remained.
"Save that for me," Aymeric instructed and Estinien had to fold forward, pushing the knuckles of balled fists into the bedding and taking several breaths to keep from touching himself again. He wanted to leap up and grab Aymeric, press his cock into his hands and rut up against him for release, but his willpower was greater than his desire—even if only just barely.
"You'll have to forgive me then. I'm not sure you'll get to enjoy it for very long," Estinien said between heavy breaths. He rarely felt this winded even after downing giant beasts and primals but Aymeric so easily had him dizzy and panting.
Aymeric shook his head as he approached with casual steps, undeterred, and for the first time since he'd arrived, Estinien's gaze dropped low enough as he watched Aymeric coming near that he could see Aymeric was barefoot. He wondered if there was a set of matching heels for the dress that Aymeric hadn't gotten to wearing before his arrival, and then had to squeeze his eyes shut a moment to try and ignore what he had imagined before the arousal bowled him over again. When he blinked them back open, Aymeric was standing between his legs, eyeing him with a look of pure hunger that made Estinien's hips jerk upwards and bounce his cock against his thigh.
"I trust I'll be able to enjoy you as long as I wish," Aymeric said with a meaningful tone, before dropping very slowly onto his knees. "But I do so love seeing you this eager for me."
Estinien's fists loosened and his fingers instead grabbed onto the bedding, holding on for dear life. He spread his thighs wider and panted when Aymeric's palms splayed flat atop them, sliding upwards then back down to the tops of his knees. Aymeric stroked Estinien's legs like that in a slow and steady rhythm, the pads of his fingers occasionally squeezing against the softer skin, content to just hear him breathe and groan under the constant, teasing touches.
This continued for a while, until Aymeric stopped abruptly to press a kiss to an old scar along the inner side of one of Estinien's thighs and said simply, "I want to hold you in my mouth."
"Swiving hells, Aymeric," Estinien hissed, head dropping back as his body shuddered hard from the effort of keeping his hands off himself.
Aymeric laughed mirthfully at his desperation born of arousal, but gave Estinien a grateful squeeze when he adjusted where he sat so Aymeric would be able to rest his chin against the bed.
But as Aymeric's hand drew closer, even though he ached to be touched, Estinien tried to warn again, "Aymeric, I won't be able to—"
"I want it," Aymeric reassured, and Estinien had to lift his head back up to stare down at Aymeric where he was sat on his knees, in a slip of a dress, mouth but an ilm from the head of Estinien's straining, flushed red cock. For a man just as tall as Estinien if not as broad, he looked perfectly comfortable and content to be folded so small and wedged between Estinien's legs.
"Let me take it," Aymeric pleaded now, the first time his well-trained control had slipped and Estinien could hear just how equally desperate he was, "Please."
Not that Estinien had any intention to deny him. He drew his right hand away from the sheets and gently brought it to Aymeric's cheek, both of them breathing in deep as Estinien stroked his skin. Aymeric took it for the permission it was and leaned in close, wrapping a palm loosely around Estinien's length and drawing a long, guttural groan out of him. Each tentative, experimental drag of his fist had Estinien's muscles spasming, fingers gripping tight into Aymeric's hair where his hand had slid, and breathing growing heavier. Despite how tenuous his remaining control was, Estinien kept himself from fully letting go.
Aymeric wanted to take all of him, and Estinien was determined to make sure he got it.
Once he saw Aymeric bring his cock to his lips, Estinien licked his own and closed his eyes, knowing the sight of it would easily push him past the precipice. The soft, wet warmth of Aymeric's tongue brushing along the underside of his cockhead made Estinien suck in one last breath before all the air in his lungs was pushed back out slowly in a steady, continuous moan. Aymeric took him in shallow, testing bobs of his head before he pressed further with confidence, swallowing down around him deeper and deeper. He didn't take Estinien all the way to the base, but it only took a few more moments of being caressed by Aymeric's tongue and held tight in his mouth for Estinien to begin to jerk and shudder, orgasm cresting over him and making his vision go white behind his eyelids.
As the muscles of his abdomen squeezed and the rest of him shuddered, Estinien hunched forward, trying not to rock his hips with each pulse of his climax and fuck too deep into Aymeric's throat, but his hand in Aymeric's hair was still clenched tight, holding him in place and making sure he swallowed every drop. While Estinien moaned with relief and pleasure both, Aymeric hummed in gratitude, one hand giving soothing, encouraging strokes along Estinien's leg while the other cupped his sac where it had drawn tight, as if to spur the release against his tongue to keep flowing longer.
When at last it felt like he had emptied himself and Aymeric had swallowed all he could take, Estinien's whole body relaxed with a shivering sigh.
"Fury, Aymeric," Estinien gasped between heavy pants.
It took focus and effort to get his eyes to open, orgasm yet making his eyelids heavy, but he wanted to see this: the contented aftermath, Aymeric's cheek pressed flush against his thigh and chin perched atop the bed, resting with an air of total satisfaction as he held Estinien's cock in his mouth even as it softened against his tongue. Estinien's fingers now splayed loose and ran gently through Aymeric's hair, sometimes massaging up and down his ear and earning a purr of appreciation. As he continued to catch his breath, Estinien leaned back and held himself up on one arm, lazily observing every part of Aymeric. His face was serene, eyes distant, and his chest barely moved against the tightness of his dress with each steady breath, as though he was ready to drift off to sleep.
"You did well, taking it all," Estinien mumbled after some time, almost hesitant to wake him, but still grateful and wanting to offer praise.
But Aymeric's reaction was immediate. His unfocused gaze snapped up to Estinien's face, now alert and expectant, and his hands that had dropped to his lap scrambled to tug up the hem of his dress as his thighs squeezed and shook. Recognizing what Aymeric wanted, Estinien rolled his hips forward, pushing against the back of Aymeric's throat to indulge in the sensation one more time.
"Did you get enough, Aymeric? Are you satisfied?"
Already he could feel himself growing hard again and Aymeric's jaw shifted to accommodate the thick weight as his cock stiffened atop his tongue.
"Or... is there something more I can give you?"
Estinien found Aymeric's chin with his fingers and watched his face, waiting for a nod before he gently guided Aymeric back at the same time as he scooted further onto the bed until his dick bounced free of Aymeric's mouth. Not a drop of his spill had gone to waste, his cock licked clean and no signs that any of his come had broken past Aymeric's lips.
"Ride you," Aymeric said, voice raspy as his throat worked to readjust now that it was empty again, "I want to ride you."
This time, no longer at the mercy of his own desire and crumbling self-control nor blindsided by Aymeric's bluntness, Estinien easily offered his hands to help Aymeric rise from his knees. Once standing, it was impossible for Estinien's eyes to look anywhere but at the hem of Aymeric's dress where it was now pulled even more tantalizingly high up his thighs and it became clear he'd been wearing no undergarments at all. Despite his regained calm, Estinien still wobbled where he sat at the realization.
While Estinien groaned at the dizzying speed of more blood rushing to his cock, making sure he was fully hard and ready, Aymeric pressed his knees into the mattress to climb over him. But the cut of his dress was still too tight against him for this new position, unable to spread his thighs wide and sink downwards. This left his belly at Estinien's eye level when Aymeric groaned in frustration and lifted his hands to run through Estinien's hair where he had leaned forward, inhaling sharply against his hip.
"Lift my dress," Aymeric whispered, and Estinien's breathing grew harsh. He moved to obey with steady but hesitant hands, not sure how easily he could damage the fabric, but as he focused, trying to roll the hem upwards along Aymeric's thighs, he was surprised at how tightly it clung to him.
"I might have to tear you free sooner than I lift this hem any higher," Estinien warned, not wanting to damage something Aymeric valued and had gone out of his way to have made.
But to his surprise, Aymeric laughed above him. "Tear it, rip it apart, do whatever must needs be done. Just hurry, Estinien, and let me take you inside me," he nearly whined with urgency.
And that was all Estinien needed before he took a tight grip of the hem between his fists and pulled with a burst of strength he usually reserved for wielding his spear. The rip was small and jagged, but it was enough for him to get his fingers between and tear wider until the split reached up to Aymeric's waist. Immediately feeling himself freed from the tightness of his dress, Aymeric groaned with relief and sank down into Estinien's lap, rocking his hips downwards and pressing the wet lips of his cunt against the solid heat of Estinien's length before he reached down to guide it to his entrance.
Estinien's hands dropped to Aymeric's thighs where they were spread on either side of him and squeezed against the soft skin to keep from grabbing Aymeric by the waist and taking over the tempo. Blessedly, Aymeric was in even less of a mood to tease, grinding down in a gradual but steady rhythm, taking Estinien deeper with every rock of his hips, until at last he was seated completely in Estinien's lap and they let out a hiss of pleasure in unison.
As their breathing evened out together, Estinien's eyes traced Aymeric's chest, admiring the sight of his gift as the Alexandrian lapis twinkled brightly in the firelight against Aymeric's skin. He continued to gaze at it until he felt Aymeric rising and sinking around him and his attention was drawn upwards, focus narrowing to only Aymeric's face and the deepening blush spooling across his cheeks and through to his ears.
Compared to Estinien, Aymeric was more than content to keep the pace slow, determined to make the night last and savor it. He whispered a quiet wish for the two to stay embraced like this, not caring how far he was from climax, only craving the sensation of having Estinien inside him just as he had with his mouth. Aymeric brought his hands to brace on Estinien's shoulders and keened when Estinien’s arms wrapped tight around his back, pulling them closer together and burying his face in the soft fabric that covered Aymeric’s chest.
Though he had a great deal of endurance and had tasted his own climax once already, it was still a challenge to keep himself restrained. But even so, Estinien was more than glad to be at Aymeric’s mercy and let himself be held, instructed, kissed, and pleasured for hours deep into the night.
~*~
"You were never going to the St. Elodette Ball, were you?" Estinien asked later, spooned up along Aymeric's naked back. The dress had been fully slipped off from him at some point, tossed to the floor somewhere amongst the other smattering of discarded clothing.
Aymeric laughed, a bit bashful at being caught out even though he had made it plenty obvious.
"No. Mistress Tataru made me many different pieces with the weave I sent her, some fit for events in Ishgard, others for any occasion that I traveled abroad, and some just for... private use. None were intended for that ball in particular, but it was an excuse to show you one of the pieces I hoped to wear for you, and it was much easier to entice you than I expected."
Estinien grunted. While he still refused to trust her, he was at least relieved to know Tataru wasn't totally lacking in sense. And as far as being enticed, he felt more like a man who had fallen for a complete bluff at a betting table in the Gold Saucer, only to wind up the biggest winner by the end.
But he felt a stinging sense of guilt at Aymeric's admission, and not wanting Aymeric to be left with another Starlight season without a chance to join in some celebration before returning to his myriad duties, Estinien asked, "Is there any other event you wished to attend? I'm still free to escort you."
"So long as I dress appropriately?" Aymeric teased, getting a less-than-gentle bite to his shoulder in reply. "Well... there is an occasion coming up soon. It's not a traditional event and perhaps not quite in theme with the season, but perhaps if we are fortunate, I'm hoping it may become one."
Aymeric continued on to explain his planned cultural exchange with the Dravanians, since so many of their young had made the journey and came to visit the Firmament but very few Ishgardians had made the effort to visit Anyx Trine or Moghome and Zenith above. It sounded pleasant enough, and it had been some time since Estinien had gone back to see the dragons who had so thoroughly changed his life. He could see no reason not to join Aymeric, and was already offering his groggy agreement when a realization brought his thoughts to a crashing halt.
"Is this gathering going to include those miserable floating bastards?"
Momentarily bewildered, Aymeric rolled over in Estinien's arms and looked at him with clear confusion. "Are you asking after the moogles? They are the stewards of Zenith, so I'm not sure it will be possible to avoid them. Why?"
Estinien sighed, flopping onto his back and running a hand over his face as the memories of his visit to the Churning Mists flooded back through his mind.
"Perhaps you should wear another dress like you did tonight after all," he grumbled, feeling suddenly far less celebratory than he had since making his way into Aymeric’s bed.
Estinien wasn’t going to go back on his word, but he would need something to distract him from those bloody moogles, else he feared he wouldn’t make it through Aymeric’s planned event without skewering a fair number of the damned things.