A New Feeling
Title: A New Feeling
Author: kianaaaaa
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Fakir/Mytho
Warnings: Explicit yaoi.
Disclaimer: Princess Tutu belongs to its creator, not me.
Summary: "I wonder what it is I think of you, Fakir. When I think of Rue, when I think of you, Fakir, and when I’m thinking of Princess Tutu. Each one makes me feel different. But I don’t know what names I should give these feelings."
Author's Note: Oneshot and lemon.
"A New Feeling"
“I wonder... what it is I think of you, Fakir.”
Fakir’s eyes narrowed, face hardening.
“When I think of Rue, when I think of you, Fakir, and when I’m thinking of Princess Tutu. Each one makes me feel different. But I don’t know what names I should give these feelings.”
Mytho’s amber eyes met stern green ones, searching for the answer he sought.
“Tell me, Fakir. Shouldn’t I know what these feelings mean?”
Fakir’s frown deepened as he stepped closer to the boy. He grabbed his chin roughly and forced his face up, looking at him.
“Why are you so curious? What does it matter, these feelings?” he demanded, clenching his fist over the boy’s chin painfully.
Fakir’s eyes widened as he felt Mytho wince. “Are you trembling...?”
“...Fakir, tell me.”
His shock subsided and he felt anger bubbling up. “Tell you what?! Are these feelings so important?!” he yelled.
Mytho flinched in fear and held his arms protectively at his chest. “If I do not know these feelings, how should I know what to do with them?” he asked.
Fakir’s mouth hung agape for a moment, staring at the smaller boy beneath him. He slowly blinked his eyes and sighed.
“Because I tell you how to act, got it? You don’t need these feelings, you must come to me for everything,” he said, pulling his hand away from Mytho’s face and slamming it into the wall behind him.
Mytho gazed up at him, uncertainty in his eyes.
Fakir’s body shook, hand fisting his hair. “Don’t look at me like that!” he screamed, pushing Mytho against the wall. “If you care so much about these feelings of your’s...”
Fakir’s voice trailed off, and his expression softened. Mytho almost breathed a sigh of a relief. Fakir wasn’t going to yell at him anymore. However, he was cut short by the sudden, sinister smile that now played across Fakir’s face.
He closed the space between them, chests touching, and trailed a finger down Mytho’s bare leg.
“... how does this make you feel?” he finally asked, caressing Mytho’s thigh. He felt Mytho shudder against him.
“Does this make you feel...” He lowered his face to Mytho’s neck and let his hot breath dance across the milky skin. “... like that feeling you have for me?”
Mytho’s breathing became more ragged, and he tried to find his answer. “Fakir, I...”
“Shut up,” Fakir ordered, silencing Mytho with a lick of his tongue. He traveled his mouth over Mytho’s neck, stopping at the sensitive areas. He heard Mytho sigh raggedly as he trailed across a patch of skin beneath his jaw, and let out a probing tongue.
“Oh...” Mytho breathed as Fakir sucked at the patch of skin. He encircled it with his tongue, and lightly scraped at it with his teeth. He felt Mytho swallow. He nibbled at the skin, and elicited a moan from Mytho. When he removed his mouth, he saw that the skin was now raw and pink.
“Does this feeling still confuse you?” Fakir asked, surprised to hear his own voice had dropped a pitch, husky and seductive.
Mytho licked his lips, gazing at Fakir with half-opened eyes. “No... this I have never felt before,” he answered, voice now tiny and whispering. “How can you make me feel this feeling? I can’t feel anything without a heart shard, without Princess Tutu.”
Fakir felt himself smirking, slowly bringing his lips to Mytho’s. Just an inch away, he drew a line of steamy breath across his mouth, and uttered a single word.
“No.” Fakir felt Mytho’s short, hot breaths quicken against his face, and he decided to waste no more time.
Fakir kissed Mytho’s full, pink lips, tongue trailing across his bottom lip. He sucked and nibbled at that lip, feeling the vibrations of Mytho’s moan in his mouth. He plunged deeper into Mytho’s open mouth, probing his tongue against the other tongue, feeling every smooth surface.
He felt the boy shaking violently, and cut off the kiss for oxygen. Mytho gasped for air, savoring the taste of the other boy in his mouth. He felt strangely excited, blood and adrenaline rushing for this peculiar new sensation. He didn’t know what to call this feeling, but wanted more of it. He opened his eyes fully, waiting for Fakir to touch him in that special way again.
“Fakir...?”
Fakir, however, knew what was going on. He knew what he was doing, and knew that he wasn’t supposed to be doing it. Yes, he had always lashed out at the boy and even physically threatened him. But he had never gone this far.
“Mytho, I’m sorry,” he said, though not apologetically. He straightened his figure and took a step back. He had to back off now.
“Why...?” Mytho whispered, eyes widened in confusion. “Why do you show me such a feeling, then take it away?”
Fakir turned his menacing eyes on the boy. “Because that would be taking advantage of you! You, a helpless little shit.”
Mytho was taken aback. “But I want to be in control of my feelings! I don’t know what causes what, I don’t even know which one is good to feel, and which one is bad. You are the one who tells me everything, but you won’t tell me this.”
“There you go, being frustrated again. Don’t argue with me, dammit!” Fakir turned his body away from Mytho. He didn’t want to yell at him. He didn’t want to hear his surprised, hurt gasp. He didn’t want to see tears swimming in those golden eyes.
And kissing him had felt so good...
“Fakir...” Mytho said, voice wavering.
Fakir sighed and slowly turned around to face him. “Fine. But this is punishment, okay? This is to punish you for being so annoying.”
Mytho looked up, eyes blinking innocently. “Wha...?” he managed to let out. He was going to be punished?
He watched as Fakir slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Mytho gasped at Fakir’s eyes. They were not normal, they were filled to the brim with longing, growing wider and wider as more of Mytho’s skin was revealed.
“Ah...ha...” Mytho breathed as Fakir began to suck on one of his nipples, long finger tracing his collarbones. The other, untouched nipple grew hard as Fakir trailed his finger around it. He squeezed it, which made Mytho let out another moan.
But he did not linger. He slid his tongue down his chest and stomach, but was now being blocked by Mytho’s underwear.
“Fakir... what are you doing?” Mytho asked as Fakir slid his underwear down to his ankles, throwing it aside along with the shirt.
Mytho was now completely naked, although he did not feel embarrassed. He didn’t know how it felt to be embarrassed, but he knew that something was strange if someone was undressing you when you were supposed to be getting ready for school.
Fakir kissed Mytho again, this time longer and harder. Mytho’s vision began to swirl as Fakir’s delicious taste intoxicated his mouth. His senses were being blurred, and he hardly felt Fakir’s hand sliding up his legs.
“Ah..!” Mytho cried in surprise as Fakir’s hand brushed over his slightly erect member. He shuddered and looked up at Fakir’s face.
“Hold still,” Fakir said, fingers stroking his hips and inner thighs. “Close your eyes.”
Mytho did as he was told, reacting to the caressing. “Fakir... what are you doing to do?” he asked in a tiny voice.
“Shh...” Fakir whispered, hands still grazing his skin. Mytho didn’t say anything more. His muscles unclenched, and he felt himself start to relax...
“Ah!” Mytho cried, jumping. Fakir was now stroking his member, sliding it in and out of his hand.
“Ohh...” Mytho let out, feeling his member hardening, overwhelmed by the feelings of arousal as Fakir stroked and felt its length.
“Don’t move so much...” Fakir said, voice now glazed over with lust as he gazed at Mytho’s tiny body and erect member. He lowered his mouth to Mytho’s length and closed it over the head.
“Ah..! Fakir!” Mytho yelped as he felt a sudden hotness around his member. He slid his hands through Fakir’s dark hair, squeezing as Fakir’s tongue worked its way over the entire length, sending chills up Mytho’s spine. His hips bucked, forcing his length deeper into the wet mouth.
“Fakir... I can’t...” Mytho moaned, legs wobbling.
Fakir took away his mouth, a thread of saliva glistening on his mouth, connecting to the head of Mytho’s erection. “You can’t stand?” he asked, seeing Mytho’s hands hold onto the wall for support. “Fine. Sit down.”
When Mytho was slow to react, Fakir took his wrists and pulled him down onto the wooden floor. Mytho sat on the floor, propped up by his hands, legs outstretched. Fakir lowered himself completely, crawling on his hands and knees. He inched closer and closer to the pale-haired boy, eyes sweeping over the milk white flesh.
“Fakir...” Mytho moaned, feeling his piercing eyes all over his body. He closed his eyes. His insides screamed to have Fakir’s mouth on him again, and Fakir seemed to be making a show out of prowling over, painfully slowly.
And then, he felt hands on his thighs again. The skin was flaming hot, Mytho felt like they’d leave burn marks. The hands were pushing his legs apart, spreading them away from his body.
Mytho heard a chuckle, and opened his eyes.
Fakir, head already positioned at Mytho’s hard member, looked up with a lustful smile. “Ready?” he asked in a low voice.
Mytho’s breathing quickened, and he yearned for Fakir’s mouth. He nodded, blood racing in excitement.
“Ah...ohh...!” Mytho moaned over and over, holding a hand to his mouth as Fakir worked his tongue at a faster pace, sucking and licking.
“Mmm...” Fakir murmured, greatly aroused by Mytho’s moans of pleasure. He lowered a hand to his crotch, feeling the hard outline that his erection had made. Mouth still working on Mytho, he lowered his pajama shorts and pulled out his hard member from the underwear.
He stroked and slid his erection in his palm, incredibly turned on by the noises Mytho was making. He gave one hard kiss to Mytho’s head, and elicited a cry from him. Fakir moaned deeply at the sound, tasting the salty taste of precum in his mouth. His hand worked faster, member standing on end.
“Mytho...” Fakir moaned, hard member still in his mouth.
Mytho groaned, feeling the vibration of Fakir’s words travel through him. He heard another moan from Fakir, and then the hotness of his mouth was gone.
Mytho whined at the absence of Fakir’s mouth and tongue. He slowly opened his glazed-over eyes.
“Mytho...” Fakir whispered again. He straightened his back, still on his knees, member erect. His eyes swept across Mytho’s body once more before grabbing his shoulders and pinning him to the floor.
“Fakir...!” Mytho cried as his back landed on the wooden floor. He winced, then felt Fakir’s fingers.
Fakir was fingering his entrance, poking the tips of his fingers in and out, making Mytho nervous. With a grin, Fakir slowly slid one long finger inside.
“Ah!” Mytho yelped, feeling the finger invade him. The finger dug deeper, then pulled out, then back in. In, out, in.
I like this... Mytho thought, reacting to the rhythm. Fakir’s index finger was pushing deeper again, touching a sensitive spot in Mytho that made him scream in pleasure. He grimaced, however, when Fakir added a second finger. The two fingers together made scissoring motions inside him, and Mytho bit down hard. It hurt, but it also felt good.
Then, Fakir took his fingers out.
“Mytho...” Fakir whispered pinning his hands on either side of Mytho’s head. He positioned his member at Mytho’s entrance.
Mytho suddenly knew what was going to happen, and gasped. This part was different, this was going to cause him pain, the horrible sensation he had only just begun to feel.
He shuddered with fear, but knew he wouldn’t get far with telling Fakir to stop. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted him to stop. The sensations Fakir had made him feel had been so good, and if there was more, he’d allow it to happen.
Mytho spread his legs himself, giving full access to his opening, where Fakir knelt eagerly.
Fakir carefully poked the tip of his desire into Mytho’s entrance before sliding it in, hearing Mytho’s yelps of pain and pleasure. Mytho groped for Fakir, finally finding his arms and latching on. His fingernails scraped the skin as Fakir pushed deeper and deeper, Mytho letting out scattered cries and moans.
Fakir, hearing the pain in Mytho’s voice, slowed down. When Mytho blinked open his eyes, he saw Fakir looking at him with uncertainty.
“Fakir...” Mytho moaned in a pained, desperate voice, glazed over with lust. His hands dug into Fakir’s back, pulling him deeper inside him.
He wants me to continue, Fakir thought.
Fakir, with slightly more force, pushed his full length inside, hearing Mytho scream once again. When Mytho caught his breath, Fakir started to slide back and forth inside him, experimenting. He heard the pain in Mytho’s moans melt away, replaced by pleasure, and started to thrust.
“Ahh..! Oh, ahh...” Mytho moaned, head bobbing with each thrust.
Fakir continued, force increasing with each thrust until he was slamming into Mytho’s body. Fakir’s slams reached Mytho’s sensitive spot, sending chills up his spine. Mytho screamed in ecstasy, eyes widened.
“Oh, god, d-do that again!” Mytho begged.
Fakir smiled at Mytho’s extreme pleasure and abided. He slammed hard into Mytho once again, searching for that one spot.
Another hearty scream told Fakir that he had found it. He continued at that pace, slamming in and out of the small body, feeling the side of Mytho’s face against his shoulder, his thin hands clenching his arms. Their rhythm was steady and sure, Mytho gasping every time Fakir left him, only to let out another cry as he entered again.
Fakir felt himself reaching his release, and his thrusts became quicker and less steady. Mytho’s cries increases as one thrust after another came in fast, hard motions. Another sensation was building in his lower region, and all he knew was that he desperately needed more.
The thrusts continued, shaking the two bodies violently, echoing their heavy breathing and consecutive moans.
Fakir gave one final, desperate thrust into Mytho’s body, feeling that same sensation reach its climax.
“Mytho!” Fakir cried as white-hot pleasure rang through him, blinding him. He felt himself fill Mytho with his essence, hearing him scream.
Then Mytho came, emptying himself all over Fakir’s chest and stomach, screaming. His nails dug once more into Fakir’s skin as all his muscles tensed. He let out one last cry, felt his body relax, and released his hands with a gasp.
Fakir collapsed on top of Mytho, chest heaving. He felt the boy’s tiny heartbeat steady beneath his own. Fakir pulled out of him and lay down beside him. They just lay there for a moment, eyes closed. As their breathing grew steady once more, Fakir opened his eyes and reached over to brush a sweaty lock of white hair from Mytho’s face. Mytho blinked his large, amber eyes at him and felt that strange rush of feeling that he had previously asked Fakir about.
“Mytho...” Fakir breathed, leaning over and kissing him deeply. This kiss wasn’t one of lust and hunger, but of love and affection. Mytho felt his stomach flip, and, for the first time, kissed him back. Their tongues danced together, eliciting feelings Mytho could compare to a small flame lighting up inside him.
What was he supposed to call this feeling? Fakir still hadn’t told him.
The two broke apart, quietly catching their breath. They stared at each other for a while, still amazed at what they had just done. Mytho closed his eyes and snuggled his face into Fakir’s chest. It doesn’t matter, he thought.
All he knew was that the feeling was strong. And, for the time being, he could live with that.
Author: kianaaaaa
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Fakir/Mytho
Warnings: Explicit yaoi.
Disclaimer: Princess Tutu belongs to its creator, not me.
Summary: "I wonder what it is I think of you, Fakir. When I think of Rue, when I think of you, Fakir, and when I’m thinking of Princess Tutu. Each one makes me feel different. But I don’t know what names I should give these feelings."
Author's Note: Oneshot and lemon.
"A New Feeling"
“I wonder... what it is I think of you, Fakir.”
Fakir’s eyes narrowed, face hardening.
“When I think of Rue, when I think of you, Fakir, and when I’m thinking of Princess Tutu. Each one makes me feel different. But I don’t know what names I should give these feelings.”
Mytho’s amber eyes met stern green ones, searching for the answer he sought.
“Tell me, Fakir. Shouldn’t I know what these feelings mean?”
Fakir’s frown deepened as he stepped closer to the boy. He grabbed his chin roughly and forced his face up, looking at him.
“Why are you so curious? What does it matter, these feelings?” he demanded, clenching his fist over the boy’s chin painfully.
Fakir’s eyes widened as he felt Mytho wince. “Are you trembling...?”
“...Fakir, tell me.”
His shock subsided and he felt anger bubbling up. “Tell you what?! Are these feelings so important?!” he yelled.
Mytho flinched in fear and held his arms protectively at his chest. “If I do not know these feelings, how should I know what to do with them?” he asked.
Fakir’s mouth hung agape for a moment, staring at the smaller boy beneath him. He slowly blinked his eyes and sighed.
“Because I tell you how to act, got it? You don’t need these feelings, you must come to me for everything,” he said, pulling his hand away from Mytho’s face and slamming it into the wall behind him.
Mytho gazed up at him, uncertainty in his eyes.
Fakir’s body shook, hand fisting his hair. “Don’t look at me like that!” he screamed, pushing Mytho against the wall. “If you care so much about these feelings of your’s...”
Fakir’s voice trailed off, and his expression softened. Mytho almost breathed a sigh of a relief. Fakir wasn’t going to yell at him anymore. However, he was cut short by the sudden, sinister smile that now played across Fakir’s face.
He closed the space between them, chests touching, and trailed a finger down Mytho’s bare leg.
“... how does this make you feel?” he finally asked, caressing Mytho’s thigh. He felt Mytho shudder against him.
“Does this make you feel...” He lowered his face to Mytho’s neck and let his hot breath dance across the milky skin. “... like that feeling you have for me?”
Mytho’s breathing became more ragged, and he tried to find his answer. “Fakir, I...”
“Shut up,” Fakir ordered, silencing Mytho with a lick of his tongue. He traveled his mouth over Mytho’s neck, stopping at the sensitive areas. He heard Mytho sigh raggedly as he trailed across a patch of skin beneath his jaw, and let out a probing tongue.
“Oh...” Mytho breathed as Fakir sucked at the patch of skin. He encircled it with his tongue, and lightly scraped at it with his teeth. He felt Mytho swallow. He nibbled at the skin, and elicited a moan from Mytho. When he removed his mouth, he saw that the skin was now raw and pink.
“Does this feeling still confuse you?” Fakir asked, surprised to hear his own voice had dropped a pitch, husky and seductive.
Mytho licked his lips, gazing at Fakir with half-opened eyes. “No... this I have never felt before,” he answered, voice now tiny and whispering. “How can you make me feel this feeling? I can’t feel anything without a heart shard, without Princess Tutu.”
Fakir felt himself smirking, slowly bringing his lips to Mytho’s. Just an inch away, he drew a line of steamy breath across his mouth, and uttered a single word.
“No.” Fakir felt Mytho’s short, hot breaths quicken against his face, and he decided to waste no more time.
Fakir kissed Mytho’s full, pink lips, tongue trailing across his bottom lip. He sucked and nibbled at that lip, feeling the vibrations of Mytho’s moan in his mouth. He plunged deeper into Mytho’s open mouth, probing his tongue against the other tongue, feeling every smooth surface.
He felt the boy shaking violently, and cut off the kiss for oxygen. Mytho gasped for air, savoring the taste of the other boy in his mouth. He felt strangely excited, blood and adrenaline rushing for this peculiar new sensation. He didn’t know what to call this feeling, but wanted more of it. He opened his eyes fully, waiting for Fakir to touch him in that special way again.
“Fakir...?”
Fakir, however, knew what was going on. He knew what he was doing, and knew that he wasn’t supposed to be doing it. Yes, he had always lashed out at the boy and even physically threatened him. But he had never gone this far.
“Mytho, I’m sorry,” he said, though not apologetically. He straightened his figure and took a step back. He had to back off now.
“Why...?” Mytho whispered, eyes widened in confusion. “Why do you show me such a feeling, then take it away?”
Fakir turned his menacing eyes on the boy. “Because that would be taking advantage of you! You, a helpless little shit.”
Mytho was taken aback. “But I want to be in control of my feelings! I don’t know what causes what, I don’t even know which one is good to feel, and which one is bad. You are the one who tells me everything, but you won’t tell me this.”
“There you go, being frustrated again. Don’t argue with me, dammit!” Fakir turned his body away from Mytho. He didn’t want to yell at him. He didn’t want to hear his surprised, hurt gasp. He didn’t want to see tears swimming in those golden eyes.
And kissing him had felt so good...
“Fakir...” Mytho said, voice wavering.
Fakir sighed and slowly turned around to face him. “Fine. But this is punishment, okay? This is to punish you for being so annoying.”
Mytho looked up, eyes blinking innocently. “Wha...?” he managed to let out. He was going to be punished?
He watched as Fakir slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Mytho gasped at Fakir’s eyes. They were not normal, they were filled to the brim with longing, growing wider and wider as more of Mytho’s skin was revealed.
“Ah...ha...” Mytho breathed as Fakir began to suck on one of his nipples, long finger tracing his collarbones. The other, untouched nipple grew hard as Fakir trailed his finger around it. He squeezed it, which made Mytho let out another moan.
But he did not linger. He slid his tongue down his chest and stomach, but was now being blocked by Mytho’s underwear.
“Fakir... what are you doing?” Mytho asked as Fakir slid his underwear down to his ankles, throwing it aside along with the shirt.
Mytho was now completely naked, although he did not feel embarrassed. He didn’t know how it felt to be embarrassed, but he knew that something was strange if someone was undressing you when you were supposed to be getting ready for school.
Fakir kissed Mytho again, this time longer and harder. Mytho’s vision began to swirl as Fakir’s delicious taste intoxicated his mouth. His senses were being blurred, and he hardly felt Fakir’s hand sliding up his legs.
“Ah..!” Mytho cried in surprise as Fakir’s hand brushed over his slightly erect member. He shuddered and looked up at Fakir’s face.
“Hold still,” Fakir said, fingers stroking his hips and inner thighs. “Close your eyes.”
Mytho did as he was told, reacting to the caressing. “Fakir... what are you doing to do?” he asked in a tiny voice.
“Shh...” Fakir whispered, hands still grazing his skin. Mytho didn’t say anything more. His muscles unclenched, and he felt himself start to relax...
“Ah!” Mytho cried, jumping. Fakir was now stroking his member, sliding it in and out of his hand.
“Ohh...” Mytho let out, feeling his member hardening, overwhelmed by the feelings of arousal as Fakir stroked and felt its length.
“Don’t move so much...” Fakir said, voice now glazed over with lust as he gazed at Mytho’s tiny body and erect member. He lowered his mouth to Mytho’s length and closed it over the head.
“Ah..! Fakir!” Mytho yelped as he felt a sudden hotness around his member. He slid his hands through Fakir’s dark hair, squeezing as Fakir’s tongue worked its way over the entire length, sending chills up Mytho’s spine. His hips bucked, forcing his length deeper into the wet mouth.
“Fakir... I can’t...” Mytho moaned, legs wobbling.
Fakir took away his mouth, a thread of saliva glistening on his mouth, connecting to the head of Mytho’s erection. “You can’t stand?” he asked, seeing Mytho’s hands hold onto the wall for support. “Fine. Sit down.”
When Mytho was slow to react, Fakir took his wrists and pulled him down onto the wooden floor. Mytho sat on the floor, propped up by his hands, legs outstretched. Fakir lowered himself completely, crawling on his hands and knees. He inched closer and closer to the pale-haired boy, eyes sweeping over the milk white flesh.
“Fakir...” Mytho moaned, feeling his piercing eyes all over his body. He closed his eyes. His insides screamed to have Fakir’s mouth on him again, and Fakir seemed to be making a show out of prowling over, painfully slowly.
And then, he felt hands on his thighs again. The skin was flaming hot, Mytho felt like they’d leave burn marks. The hands were pushing his legs apart, spreading them away from his body.
Mytho heard a chuckle, and opened his eyes.
Fakir, head already positioned at Mytho’s hard member, looked up with a lustful smile. “Ready?” he asked in a low voice.
Mytho’s breathing quickened, and he yearned for Fakir’s mouth. He nodded, blood racing in excitement.
“Ah...ohh...!” Mytho moaned over and over, holding a hand to his mouth as Fakir worked his tongue at a faster pace, sucking and licking.
“Mmm...” Fakir murmured, greatly aroused by Mytho’s moans of pleasure. He lowered a hand to his crotch, feeling the hard outline that his erection had made. Mouth still working on Mytho, he lowered his pajama shorts and pulled out his hard member from the underwear.
He stroked and slid his erection in his palm, incredibly turned on by the noises Mytho was making. He gave one hard kiss to Mytho’s head, and elicited a cry from him. Fakir moaned deeply at the sound, tasting the salty taste of precum in his mouth. His hand worked faster, member standing on end.
“Mytho...” Fakir moaned, hard member still in his mouth.
Mytho groaned, feeling the vibration of Fakir’s words travel through him. He heard another moan from Fakir, and then the hotness of his mouth was gone.
Mytho whined at the absence of Fakir’s mouth and tongue. He slowly opened his glazed-over eyes.
“Mytho...” Fakir whispered again. He straightened his back, still on his knees, member erect. His eyes swept across Mytho’s body once more before grabbing his shoulders and pinning him to the floor.
“Fakir...!” Mytho cried as his back landed on the wooden floor. He winced, then felt Fakir’s fingers.
Fakir was fingering his entrance, poking the tips of his fingers in and out, making Mytho nervous. With a grin, Fakir slowly slid one long finger inside.
“Ah!” Mytho yelped, feeling the finger invade him. The finger dug deeper, then pulled out, then back in. In, out, in.
I like this... Mytho thought, reacting to the rhythm. Fakir’s index finger was pushing deeper again, touching a sensitive spot in Mytho that made him scream in pleasure. He grimaced, however, when Fakir added a second finger. The two fingers together made scissoring motions inside him, and Mytho bit down hard. It hurt, but it also felt good.
Then, Fakir took his fingers out.
“Mytho...” Fakir whispered pinning his hands on either side of Mytho’s head. He positioned his member at Mytho’s entrance.
Mytho suddenly knew what was going to happen, and gasped. This part was different, this was going to cause him pain, the horrible sensation he had only just begun to feel.
He shuddered with fear, but knew he wouldn’t get far with telling Fakir to stop. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted him to stop. The sensations Fakir had made him feel had been so good, and if there was more, he’d allow it to happen.
Mytho spread his legs himself, giving full access to his opening, where Fakir knelt eagerly.
Fakir carefully poked the tip of his desire into Mytho’s entrance before sliding it in, hearing Mytho’s yelps of pain and pleasure. Mytho groped for Fakir, finally finding his arms and latching on. His fingernails scraped the skin as Fakir pushed deeper and deeper, Mytho letting out scattered cries and moans.
Fakir, hearing the pain in Mytho’s voice, slowed down. When Mytho blinked open his eyes, he saw Fakir looking at him with uncertainty.
“Fakir...” Mytho moaned in a pained, desperate voice, glazed over with lust. His hands dug into Fakir’s back, pulling him deeper inside him.
He wants me to continue, Fakir thought.
Fakir, with slightly more force, pushed his full length inside, hearing Mytho scream once again. When Mytho caught his breath, Fakir started to slide back and forth inside him, experimenting. He heard the pain in Mytho’s moans melt away, replaced by pleasure, and started to thrust.
“Ahh..! Oh, ahh...” Mytho moaned, head bobbing with each thrust.
Fakir continued, force increasing with each thrust until he was slamming into Mytho’s body. Fakir’s slams reached Mytho’s sensitive spot, sending chills up his spine. Mytho screamed in ecstasy, eyes widened.
“Oh, god, d-do that again!” Mytho begged.
Fakir smiled at Mytho’s extreme pleasure and abided. He slammed hard into Mytho once again, searching for that one spot.
Another hearty scream told Fakir that he had found it. He continued at that pace, slamming in and out of the small body, feeling the side of Mytho’s face against his shoulder, his thin hands clenching his arms. Their rhythm was steady and sure, Mytho gasping every time Fakir left him, only to let out another cry as he entered again.
Fakir felt himself reaching his release, and his thrusts became quicker and less steady. Mytho’s cries increases as one thrust after another came in fast, hard motions. Another sensation was building in his lower region, and all he knew was that he desperately needed more.
The thrusts continued, shaking the two bodies violently, echoing their heavy breathing and consecutive moans.
Fakir gave one final, desperate thrust into Mytho’s body, feeling that same sensation reach its climax.
“Mytho!” Fakir cried as white-hot pleasure rang through him, blinding him. He felt himself fill Mytho with his essence, hearing him scream.
Then Mytho came, emptying himself all over Fakir’s chest and stomach, screaming. His nails dug once more into Fakir’s skin as all his muscles tensed. He let out one last cry, felt his body relax, and released his hands with a gasp.
Fakir collapsed on top of Mytho, chest heaving. He felt the boy’s tiny heartbeat steady beneath his own. Fakir pulled out of him and lay down beside him. They just lay there for a moment, eyes closed. As their breathing grew steady once more, Fakir opened his eyes and reached over to brush a sweaty lock of white hair from Mytho’s face. Mytho blinked his large, amber eyes at him and felt that strange rush of feeling that he had previously asked Fakir about.
“Mytho...” Fakir breathed, leaning over and kissing him deeply. This kiss wasn’t one of lust and hunger, but of love and affection. Mytho felt his stomach flip, and, for the first time, kissed him back. Their tongues danced together, eliciting feelings Mytho could compare to a small flame lighting up inside him.
What was he supposed to call this feeling? Fakir still hadn’t told him.
The two broke apart, quietly catching their breath. They stared at each other for a while, still amazed at what they had just done. Mytho closed his eyes and snuggled his face into Fakir’s chest. It doesn’t matter, he thought.
All he knew was that the feeling was strong. And, for the time being, he could live with that.