[FIC] Fatal Attraction
Title: Fatal Attraction
Fandom: Original, LoNyss
Warnings: A big NC-17 rating, slash and a threesome. Canon.
Happy birthday lyntek. ♥
The knock on the door shattered the quiet peace and made the two occupants of the room burrow deeper into their blankets in search for warmth. The sound persisted, and one of them groaned, an arm already seeking a way out of their little sanctuary. Shoulder and head soon followed, the black hair half in and out of its ponytail, and the other figure pulled the blankets back up and shivered. Grey eyes remained alert as pants were quickly snagged and dragged on, and one hand remained on top of the covers in case a quick spell was needed. You could never be too sure in these parts.
Through the space between his lover's legs, he could see hints of a blue cloak, and had a clear view of the satchel dropping to the floor. When Loki suddenly cursed and shifted to bear the knocker's weight, Nyssius discarded the covers and moved to quickly close the door while the human carried the unexpected visitor, who appeared to be dripping blood, to their couch. He experienced a moment of shock at the familiar dark face, that face he hated and was now covered in red, but then Loki was calling for him to grab the bandages and instincts took over. He grabbed the cloths and some of the herbs they kept stored, and took an extra second to pick up Loki's shirt, shrugging it on while his lover's hands went about cleaning up the blood and disinfecting the wounds.
When, after fifteen minutes of trying to revive the dark elf, his lips began to turn blue, it was Nyssius who alerted Loki to the traces of poison left behind the pointy ear. Later, he would wish he had never saved the man's life.
It took three days for Chay to recover enough to walk around the room, and two more before he could do it without falling. Loki hadn't said more to him than 'eat this', and 'drink that', and occasionally 'if you tear that wound open you can bleed to death for all I care; sit down'. Nyssius had pulled him aside a few times to ask if he was alright, or to stare at his face to see if he would let something slip. But Loki brushed off the concerns with a smile and a kiss, and his eyes were not angry, upset or elated. They were blank.
At night though, when Chay was in a mildly-drugged sleep (Loki had insisted on it, claiming the herbs used would help speed up his recovery) and unable to hear them, those eyes almost burned, and tanned hands would move frantically over pale elven skin. Nyssius responded just as fiercely, leaving as many scratches and marks as received, attacking Loki's lips and nipples and shaft with his mouth until their throats were hoarse and they lay in a spent tangle on the bed. It only hit him later, when he was rubbing salve into a particularly long scratch, that Loki was as scared as he was. Oddly enough, that didn't make him feel any better.
When the only evidence of the dark elf's narrow escape from death was the lingering scabs, Loki dragged their one chair to the front of the couch and sat there for five minutes, saying nothing. Chay was just as quiet, and it was all Nyssius could do not to roll his eyes in disgust from his perch against the door. When Loki did finally open his mouth, he cursed Chay up and down with a steady voice, never lapsing into a shout. He wondered at the human's control; if it had been him, the whole inn would have known what he was saying by now. Or if he had been at the receiving end, he wouldn't have sat there and meekly let the words wash over him.
Except that wasn't really true. Chay was sitting silently, but was nothing but meek. The black eyes glittered, and it was all too easy for Nyssius to read the lust in them. If he had noticed, so had Loki, but the latter never gave any indication. When he was done talking, he put the chair back to its place by the bath, put a bowl of soup in front of Chay and told him to get some rest, as if it had never happened. But that night, when Loki reached for Nyssius under the sheets, Nyssius rolled them both over, pinned the other's hands to his side and didn't let up until he was pounding the human into the mattress.
They slowly settled into a routine. Nyssius was usually the first up and would go out and bring back breakfast. By that time Chay would be up and clean and Loki would just be getting out of bed, stretching and yawning and in danger of falling asleep on the couch. He would wash up next and go out for a few hours to stake out new spots. That left both elves in the room, and after one day of fluttering around each other Nyssius had begun to brush up on his studies. Chay had flipped through their small collection of books and picked one out, and could be found most of the day on his couch. Dinner was brought by Loki, and when it was time for bed he would prepare a drink for all of them, and slip something into Chay's. He never told Nyssius what it was, and the elf never asked. Their nights were spent in bed, a frantic pace of sexual gratification until they fell into an exhausted sleep. It wasn't a good routine but it worked, for now.
And when Loki opened the door one day to find Chay dozing on the couch and Nyssius staring at him from a corner, he dumped the food by the door and went over there to give Nyssius a kiss fueled by desperation, jerking him close and whispering softly in his ear. "I know this is difficult and insane but I don't know what to do." But when he turned to flee he was pulled back, and a softer kiss followed, from lips to chin to neck, where Nyssius bit down hard enough to make him hiss, and when he growled, "I'm not giving you up," a little of the blankness went away.
Even with their careful system, there were bound to be problems. Like when Nyssius came home one morning and found Chay sitting on the edge of his bed, watching the sleeping Loki. Or when Loki woke up and found that Chay had cornered Nyssius, and that the mage's hands were beginning to flash blue. There was a lot of shouting, a lot of arguing, a lot of new rules put in place, and those worked for a while, or at least until Chay found a loophole. Nyssius kept expecting Loki to kick him out, but every time his lover got worked up he would simply storm out and come back half an hour later as calm as ever. Nyssius envied him the rein on his temper, but instinctively knew it would never last.
It came to a head three weeks after Chay stepped into their inn. The dark elf had stepped out of the bath naked, refusing to put any clothes on till his hair dried. Loki was still out and that left only Nyssius to deal with the intruder. The shouting started quickly, Nyssius hurling accusations while Chay returned with carefully chosen remarks, designed the cut the deepest. And when Nyssius raised a hand to slap him, Chay grabbed it, jerked the other elf closer and let his free hand slide down the soft robe until it hit a half-hard member. The smirk he was wearing grew as he started to rub, and when Nyssius tried to push him off he backed them both into a wall, grabbing the other pale hand and grinding his hips instead. The more Nyssius moaned, the faster he moved, continuing even after Nyssius's release had coated the inside of the robe. Upon the click of the door he stepped aside, donned his silk robe and left the room, leaving Loki in the doorway faced with the sight of his molested lover.
When he came back, Nyssius was nowhere to be found, and Loki stayed long enough to knock him to the ground before he, too, left the room.
As a child, Nyssius had often sought comfort in books, and that had not changed as he grew older. It was no surprise then that when he was upset he would hide out in the library, in the darkest corner where it was easiest to hide. Loki found him there, arms curled around his knees and his long, silver hair hiding it all. He didn't move, not even when Loki sat next to him, and only flinched when Loki gently touched his knee.
"Are you not going to talk to me at all then?" There was no reply, and the human shifted until his back was against the wall and let his head fall back. "Did you start it?"
The only response was a dull "No." and Loki nodded. "Did you enjoy it?" The form next to him tensed, and he reached out to place under Nyssius's chin to tip it up, ignoring the protests. Both remained silent, staring at each other, until Loki finally nodded and brushed his lips over the elf's, ignoring the small choking sound he heard as pale hands desperately clung to his shoulders and twisted in his hair. He kept up a steady string of kisses throughout the "I'm sorry"s and the "I hate him"s. And when Nyssius was finally calm enough to ask, "What are we going to do?" he pressed a soft kiss to the elf's temple and mustered up enough conviction to murmur, "We'll figure it out, don't worry," when he wasn't even sure of that himself.
No matter how much he wanted to, Loki couldn't simply throw Chay out on the street. He'd talked to the dark elf a few days after he had dropped in, and while Chay refused to give too many details Loki understood that going back was out of the question. The streets were dangerous for Chay, and the human felt he owed an old friend a little more than a cure and a boot to another inn. But every day that Chay stayed, he found himself slipping a little, Nyssius a little more on edge, Chay a little more daring, until it had culminated into the two men he had taken as lovers against the wall together. And for the first time, jealousy reared its ugly head, and Loki had a sudden revelation that this must be how Nyssius felt all the time. A solution needed to be found fast, and he couldn't do it alone.
When he sat them all down one morning and brought up the issue, Nyssius crossed his arms over his chest and refused to look up, while Chay put one leg over the other and looked at them both with the expression of a hungry cat that had tasted milk and wanted more. From the corner of his eye, he could see Nyssius reacting to that look and then forcing it down, and he felt a pang in the vicinity of his chest. "Chay, why?"
"You were right. There's something different about him." Nyssius jerked forward, hand moving even faster, but Loki placed a hand on his arm and forced it back down before turning to his lover. "You don't like him. But you didn't hate what he did to you." He shook his head at the guilt that flashed over the elf's face. "I'm not blaming you, Nyssius."
"You don't have to. I blame myself."
"You couldn't have stopped me even if you had wanted to," and Loki knew the words for what they were; the truth. There was something about Chay, too, and he could still feel it despite wanting to deny it. And now, Nyssius felt it too. Glancing at both of them, Loki knew there was only one way to keep going.
"Nyssius." He waited until he had the man's attention, let his fingers squeeze the arm underneath in support. "Nyssius, touch him." The expressive grey eyes widened, lips parting to protest, but he placed a finger over them and shook his head. "It'll be alright." He saw the instant Nyssius stopped struggling, the moment he accepted, and returned his hand to his sides and sat back.
The elf moved slowly off the couch, hands clenching and unclenching, as if half afraid Chay would fend him off and he would have to defend himself. But Chay remained in his chair, watching Nyssius step closer and silently parting his legs in obvious invitation. Loki could see the pale hands shaking, but whether it was in fear or excitement he couldn't tell. It stopped when the hands slid down clothed thighs over what he knew to be firm muscle, and by the time they reached Chay's sex he didn't seem nervous at all. They began to stroke slowly, fingers curling a little more over the shaft as it grew in size, staring gently at the base and tugging hard upon reaching the head. Upon a harsh, "Up," from Nyssius, Chay moved out of the chair and let the taller elf push him to the floor before straddling him and hiking up his robe. Nyssius's hand resumed its work, while the other slid lower, and when Chay let out a hiss as one finger carefully circled his entrance grey eyes flashed, and both hands sped up until the dark elf was a shuddering, moaning mass beneath him, not stopping until he came. But when Chay started to slip his hand underneath the other's robe, groping almost blindly for the erect member, it was slapped away by tanned hands, and Nyssius was pulled up and jerked against the human's body.
The kiss that followed was harsh, fueled by jealousy and desire, and it wasn't long before Nyssius began to move his hips in circles, seeking release. But Loki quickly stepped back and, grabbing a steel ring out of his pocket, slipped his hand inside the soft pants the mage insisted on wearing and clamped it shut around the base of Nyssius's shaft, who moaned loudly as the fingers slid over the hard flesh. But Loki murmured, "Not yet," and pushed the elf back to the couch, getting a small jar out of his coat's pocket before tossing it aside. His own shaft was quickly freed, already hard, and he wasted no time smearing the salve over it. More of it went on his hand and, after making sure Chay was watching, he spread some of it around Nyssius's entrance and slipped one finger in.
The mage bucked underneath him, hands frantically pulling at his hair, but he ignored it all as he pushed the digit in and out. A second and third soon followed, slowly stretching the passage, occasionally pausing to lick along the elf's member or to glance at Chay, who was already hard again and had one of his hands moving into him. And when Nyssius's cries became loud enough to be heard next door, he removed his hands and pushed into him with one quick jerk of his hips. Once completely seated he pulled out, not even all the way, thrusting back in impatiently, and Nyssius met his frantic pace. The moans behind him became louder and he quickly undid the ring, only having to thrust once more before Nyssius came with a scream. Three more and his own release hit him, and when he had caught his breath he saw that Chay's hand was covered in white. The dark elf came closer then and Loki kissed him softly, aware of the grey eyes on him. But Nyssius said nothing, only snuggled closer while Chay lay down on his other side, and when the breathing of both elves had slipped into the rhythm of someone sleeping, Loki smiled tiredly and closed his own eyes. Maybe this could work after all.
Chay slipped away in the morning two weeks after they found a way to deal with everything. Loki remained stone-faced for a few hours, and Nyssius occupied himself with cleaning up the room. Upon tidying the bed, Nyssius found a note under his pillow in Chay's handwriting. 'I cut and poisoned myself to get into this room. It was worth it, but you and I both know that one day, he will come back to me and leave you behind.' He remained seated on the bed, staring at the note in his hand until Loki came in and pulled him up for a gentle kiss. The note was crumpled in his fist, unnoticed by Loki, and when the human left for his daily rounds he set the wad of paper on fire and finished fluffing the pillows.
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Fandom: Original, LoNyss
Warnings: A big NC-17 rating, slash and a threesome. Canon.
Happy birthday lyntek. ♥
The knock on the door shattered the quiet peace and made the two occupants of the room burrow deeper into their blankets in search for warmth. The sound persisted, and one of them groaned, an arm already seeking a way out of their little sanctuary. Shoulder and head soon followed, the black hair half in and out of its ponytail, and the other figure pulled the blankets back up and shivered. Grey eyes remained alert as pants were quickly snagged and dragged on, and one hand remained on top of the covers in case a quick spell was needed. You could never be too sure in these parts.
Through the space between his lover's legs, he could see hints of a blue cloak, and had a clear view of the satchel dropping to the floor. When Loki suddenly cursed and shifted to bear the knocker's weight, Nyssius discarded the covers and moved to quickly close the door while the human carried the unexpected visitor, who appeared to be dripping blood, to their couch. He experienced a moment of shock at the familiar dark face, that face he hated and was now covered in red, but then Loki was calling for him to grab the bandages and instincts took over. He grabbed the cloths and some of the herbs they kept stored, and took an extra second to pick up Loki's shirt, shrugging it on while his lover's hands went about cleaning up the blood and disinfecting the wounds.
When, after fifteen minutes of trying to revive the dark elf, his lips began to turn blue, it was Nyssius who alerted Loki to the traces of poison left behind the pointy ear. Later, he would wish he had never saved the man's life.
It took three days for Chay to recover enough to walk around the room, and two more before he could do it without falling. Loki hadn't said more to him than 'eat this', and 'drink that', and occasionally 'if you tear that wound open you can bleed to death for all I care; sit down'. Nyssius had pulled him aside a few times to ask if he was alright, or to stare at his face to see if he would let something slip. But Loki brushed off the concerns with a smile and a kiss, and his eyes were not angry, upset or elated. They were blank.
At night though, when Chay was in a mildly-drugged sleep (Loki had insisted on it, claiming the herbs used would help speed up his recovery) and unable to hear them, those eyes almost burned, and tanned hands would move frantically over pale elven skin. Nyssius responded just as fiercely, leaving as many scratches and marks as received, attacking Loki's lips and nipples and shaft with his mouth until their throats were hoarse and they lay in a spent tangle on the bed. It only hit him later, when he was rubbing salve into a particularly long scratch, that Loki was as scared as he was. Oddly enough, that didn't make him feel any better.
When the only evidence of the dark elf's narrow escape from death was the lingering scabs, Loki dragged their one chair to the front of the couch and sat there for five minutes, saying nothing. Chay was just as quiet, and it was all Nyssius could do not to roll his eyes in disgust from his perch against the door. When Loki did finally open his mouth, he cursed Chay up and down with a steady voice, never lapsing into a shout. He wondered at the human's control; if it had been him, the whole inn would have known what he was saying by now. Or if he had been at the receiving end, he wouldn't have sat there and meekly let the words wash over him.
Except that wasn't really true. Chay was sitting silently, but was nothing but meek. The black eyes glittered, and it was all too easy for Nyssius to read the lust in them. If he had noticed, so had Loki, but the latter never gave any indication. When he was done talking, he put the chair back to its place by the bath, put a bowl of soup in front of Chay and told him to get some rest, as if it had never happened. But that night, when Loki reached for Nyssius under the sheets, Nyssius rolled them both over, pinned the other's hands to his side and didn't let up until he was pounding the human into the mattress.
They slowly settled into a routine. Nyssius was usually the first up and would go out and bring back breakfast. By that time Chay would be up and clean and Loki would just be getting out of bed, stretching and yawning and in danger of falling asleep on the couch. He would wash up next and go out for a few hours to stake out new spots. That left both elves in the room, and after one day of fluttering around each other Nyssius had begun to brush up on his studies. Chay had flipped through their small collection of books and picked one out, and could be found most of the day on his couch. Dinner was brought by Loki, and when it was time for bed he would prepare a drink for all of them, and slip something into Chay's. He never told Nyssius what it was, and the elf never asked. Their nights were spent in bed, a frantic pace of sexual gratification until they fell into an exhausted sleep. It wasn't a good routine but it worked, for now.
And when Loki opened the door one day to find Chay dozing on the couch and Nyssius staring at him from a corner, he dumped the food by the door and went over there to give Nyssius a kiss fueled by desperation, jerking him close and whispering softly in his ear. "I know this is difficult and insane but I don't know what to do." But when he turned to flee he was pulled back, and a softer kiss followed, from lips to chin to neck, where Nyssius bit down hard enough to make him hiss, and when he growled, "I'm not giving you up," a little of the blankness went away.
Even with their careful system, there were bound to be problems. Like when Nyssius came home one morning and found Chay sitting on the edge of his bed, watching the sleeping Loki. Or when Loki woke up and found that Chay had cornered Nyssius, and that the mage's hands were beginning to flash blue. There was a lot of shouting, a lot of arguing, a lot of new rules put in place, and those worked for a while, or at least until Chay found a loophole. Nyssius kept expecting Loki to kick him out, but every time his lover got worked up he would simply storm out and come back half an hour later as calm as ever. Nyssius envied him the rein on his temper, but instinctively knew it would never last.
It came to a head three weeks after Chay stepped into their inn. The dark elf had stepped out of the bath naked, refusing to put any clothes on till his hair dried. Loki was still out and that left only Nyssius to deal with the intruder. The shouting started quickly, Nyssius hurling accusations while Chay returned with carefully chosen remarks, designed the cut the deepest. And when Nyssius raised a hand to slap him, Chay grabbed it, jerked the other elf closer and let his free hand slide down the soft robe until it hit a half-hard member. The smirk he was wearing grew as he started to rub, and when Nyssius tried to push him off he backed them both into a wall, grabbing the other pale hand and grinding his hips instead. The more Nyssius moaned, the faster he moved, continuing even after Nyssius's release had coated the inside of the robe. Upon the click of the door he stepped aside, donned his silk robe and left the room, leaving Loki in the doorway faced with the sight of his molested lover.
When he came back, Nyssius was nowhere to be found, and Loki stayed long enough to knock him to the ground before he, too, left the room.
As a child, Nyssius had often sought comfort in books, and that had not changed as he grew older. It was no surprise then that when he was upset he would hide out in the library, in the darkest corner where it was easiest to hide. Loki found him there, arms curled around his knees and his long, silver hair hiding it all. He didn't move, not even when Loki sat next to him, and only flinched when Loki gently touched his knee.
"Are you not going to talk to me at all then?" There was no reply, and the human shifted until his back was against the wall and let his head fall back. "Did you start it?"
The only response was a dull "No." and Loki nodded. "Did you enjoy it?" The form next to him tensed, and he reached out to place under Nyssius's chin to tip it up, ignoring the protests. Both remained silent, staring at each other, until Loki finally nodded and brushed his lips over the elf's, ignoring the small choking sound he heard as pale hands desperately clung to his shoulders and twisted in his hair. He kept up a steady string of kisses throughout the "I'm sorry"s and the "I hate him"s. And when Nyssius was finally calm enough to ask, "What are we going to do?" he pressed a soft kiss to the elf's temple and mustered up enough conviction to murmur, "We'll figure it out, don't worry," when he wasn't even sure of that himself.
No matter how much he wanted to, Loki couldn't simply throw Chay out on the street. He'd talked to the dark elf a few days after he had dropped in, and while Chay refused to give too many details Loki understood that going back was out of the question. The streets were dangerous for Chay, and the human felt he owed an old friend a little more than a cure and a boot to another inn. But every day that Chay stayed, he found himself slipping a little, Nyssius a little more on edge, Chay a little more daring, until it had culminated into the two men he had taken as lovers against the wall together. And for the first time, jealousy reared its ugly head, and Loki had a sudden revelation that this must be how Nyssius felt all the time. A solution needed to be found fast, and he couldn't do it alone.
When he sat them all down one morning and brought up the issue, Nyssius crossed his arms over his chest and refused to look up, while Chay put one leg over the other and looked at them both with the expression of a hungry cat that had tasted milk and wanted more. From the corner of his eye, he could see Nyssius reacting to that look and then forcing it down, and he felt a pang in the vicinity of his chest. "Chay, why?"
"You were right. There's something different about him." Nyssius jerked forward, hand moving even faster, but Loki placed a hand on his arm and forced it back down before turning to his lover. "You don't like him. But you didn't hate what he did to you." He shook his head at the guilt that flashed over the elf's face. "I'm not blaming you, Nyssius."
"You don't have to. I blame myself."
"You couldn't have stopped me even if you had wanted to," and Loki knew the words for what they were; the truth. There was something about Chay, too, and he could still feel it despite wanting to deny it. And now, Nyssius felt it too. Glancing at both of them, Loki knew there was only one way to keep going.
"Nyssius." He waited until he had the man's attention, let his fingers squeeze the arm underneath in support. "Nyssius, touch him." The expressive grey eyes widened, lips parting to protest, but he placed a finger over them and shook his head. "It'll be alright." He saw the instant Nyssius stopped struggling, the moment he accepted, and returned his hand to his sides and sat back.
The elf moved slowly off the couch, hands clenching and unclenching, as if half afraid Chay would fend him off and he would have to defend himself. But Chay remained in his chair, watching Nyssius step closer and silently parting his legs in obvious invitation. Loki could see the pale hands shaking, but whether it was in fear or excitement he couldn't tell. It stopped when the hands slid down clothed thighs over what he knew to be firm muscle, and by the time they reached Chay's sex he didn't seem nervous at all. They began to stroke slowly, fingers curling a little more over the shaft as it grew in size, staring gently at the base and tugging hard upon reaching the head. Upon a harsh, "Up," from Nyssius, Chay moved out of the chair and let the taller elf push him to the floor before straddling him and hiking up his robe. Nyssius's hand resumed its work, while the other slid lower, and when Chay let out a hiss as one finger carefully circled his entrance grey eyes flashed, and both hands sped up until the dark elf was a shuddering, moaning mass beneath him, not stopping until he came. But when Chay started to slip his hand underneath the other's robe, groping almost blindly for the erect member, it was slapped away by tanned hands, and Nyssius was pulled up and jerked against the human's body.
The kiss that followed was harsh, fueled by jealousy and desire, and it wasn't long before Nyssius began to move his hips in circles, seeking release. But Loki quickly stepped back and, grabbing a steel ring out of his pocket, slipped his hand inside the soft pants the mage insisted on wearing and clamped it shut around the base of Nyssius's shaft, who moaned loudly as the fingers slid over the hard flesh. But Loki murmured, "Not yet," and pushed the elf back to the couch, getting a small jar out of his coat's pocket before tossing it aside. His own shaft was quickly freed, already hard, and he wasted no time smearing the salve over it. More of it went on his hand and, after making sure Chay was watching, he spread some of it around Nyssius's entrance and slipped one finger in.
The mage bucked underneath him, hands frantically pulling at his hair, but he ignored it all as he pushed the digit in and out. A second and third soon followed, slowly stretching the passage, occasionally pausing to lick along the elf's member or to glance at Chay, who was already hard again and had one of his hands moving into him. And when Nyssius's cries became loud enough to be heard next door, he removed his hands and pushed into him with one quick jerk of his hips. Once completely seated he pulled out, not even all the way, thrusting back in impatiently, and Nyssius met his frantic pace. The moans behind him became louder and he quickly undid the ring, only having to thrust once more before Nyssius came with a scream. Three more and his own release hit him, and when he had caught his breath he saw that Chay's hand was covered in white. The dark elf came closer then and Loki kissed him softly, aware of the grey eyes on him. But Nyssius said nothing, only snuggled closer while Chay lay down on his other side, and when the breathing of both elves had slipped into the rhythm of someone sleeping, Loki smiled tiredly and closed his own eyes. Maybe this could work after all.
Chay slipped away in the morning two weeks after they found a way to deal with everything. Loki remained stone-faced for a few hours, and Nyssius occupied himself with cleaning up the room. Upon tidying the bed, Nyssius found a note under his pillow in Chay's handwriting. 'I cut and poisoned myself to get into this room. It was worth it, but you and I both know that one day, he will come back to me and leave you behind.' He remained seated on the bed, staring at the note in his hand until Loki came in and pulled him up for a gentle kiss. The note was crumpled in his fist, unnoticed by Loki, and when the human left for his daily rounds he set the wad of paper on fire and finished fluffing the pillows.
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