Fic - "Right Where I Want Him" (1/1)
Title: Right Where I Want Him
Word count: 3,300
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, unfortunately.
Summary and Lots of Author’s Notes:
Written for the fanfic exchange over on azazel_riptide, this fic is somewhere between crack and smut.
I was assigned to write for kirstenlouise , who requested: “PG-13 through NC-17 (strong preference for R/NC-17). Well, I am hoping this prompt or this prompt gets filled eventually, but you’re not required to write either. In general, I like these things: underage, polyamory (I am partial to Shaw’s involvement, lol), switching, rough sex, biting/clawing/struggling/holding down, anal sex, fingering, jealousy/possessiveness, claiming, Azazel being an asshole, tail!kink, unhealthy/ unbalanced relationships, general badassery, AND LOTS OF SMUT OKAY? OKAY! ETA: Oh, and I just want to note that I like writing/reading both top!Azazel and top!Riptide. :)”.
Kirsten, I didn’t fill either of the prompts you requested, but I hope that this fic falls somewhere along the lines of what you were looking for anyway. On the other hand, I’m not sure I captured any of your ideas other than Azazel being an asshole, smut, unhealthy relationships, fingering, and (well, references to) anal sex. So if this doesn’t at all do it for you, let me know - I could extend one of the scenes and make this an NC-17 if you wish, and I also have a second fic idea that I could try out instead.
***
Right Where I Want Him
Azazel stares blankly at his fellow member of the Hellfire Club, not believing the words he has just heard. “What did you say?” Azazel breathes, feeling his blood beginning to boil.
The other fellow, a man who goes by the appellation Punisher, stands looking at Azazel. It’s hard to tell when Azazel is flushed given that his skin is already red, but Punisher can see the way Azazel leans forward as if he’s ready to pounce and has a look in his eyes bordering on furious. Or delirious.
“That new man. Riptide,” Punisher repeats. “He’s a queer. I can tell it from the way he dresses. The way he moves. The man’s a total queer. You know what I mean, right? You have those in Russia too, don’t you?” he asks. Then, as if to supply further elucidation, “Fairy. Homo. Cocksucker.”
Azazel slams a fist into his other palm. “How disgusting! I will not allow!”
Punisher shrugs. “There’s no point in complaining to Mr. Shaw. He says this guy is really powerful and does all this stuff to command the air and water, we’re going to need his powers because of the fleet of ships we’re going to get, or something like that. You’re just going to have to live with this, Azazel.”
Azazel paces around the room repeatedly as if he is caged, before turning towards the door and stalking off.
***
The next time Azazel sees Riptide it is inside the training area of their new headquarters. Riptide is fighting in some battle simulation, thanks to some snazzy programs Shaw has whipped up. Azazel eyes him. Riptide’s suit is perfectly pressed. His hair looks windblown and fetching, even after the fight. His features are of the sort that could cause any woman to swoon or at least to giggle self-consciously. Azazel wonders what Riptide looks like under that suit.
As Riptide heads to leave the training area, Azazel stands by the doorway.
“Queer,” he snarls quietly, low enough that only Riptide can hear.
“What of it?” Riptide asks loudly, tilting his chin up and looking at Azazel’s eyes.
“That is disgusting,” Azazel sneers before rapidly teleporting away.
***
Each member of the Hellfire Club has been issued a communications device. Shaw has apparently come up with some fancy name for them, but Azazel knows the term in English: walkie-talkie. Azazel has already used his frequently and he likes that they allow a measure of privacy; you can’t monitor other people’s conversations on it. Which is fortunate, considering Azazel’s plans.
It is late at night. Azazel is on guard duty but each sensor indicates that this night will be as uneventful as the last. No one knows their location and the Hellfire Club is safely ensconced away.
So Azazel whips out his communicator and contacts Riptide.
“What is it?” Riptide asks. His voice is even; he doesn’t sound as if he’s been sleeping or was disturbed.
“I need to know more about this revolting habit of yours,” Azazel sneers into the device. “Tell me about what you queers do.”
“What?” Riptide asks. Azazel can practically see him rolling his eyes.
“You hear me,” Azazel says, his voice brusque and businesslike. “Tell me in detail the last time you had sex. Every bit of it, tell me about. Now.”
There is silence on the other end of the device for a moment or two. Then Azazel hears Riptide mutter, “Oh for God’s sake.” And then, at last, Riptide says, “Okay. But this might be more than you bargained for.”
Riptide takes another breath and begins, “You want me to start with how I met the guy or --?”
“Just get to the sex,” Azazel barks.
“Okay. I have nothing else to do tonight,” Riptide agrees. “So I will tell you about it.”
Azazel settles back into his chair and presses his warm face against the walkie-talkie as Riptide begins his story.
“Well, the other man and I undressed and we got into bed. He kissed me and-“
“Did you like it??” Azazel asks. His heart rate is already starting to accelerate.
“Of course I liked it! Don’t you generally like kissing the women you sleep with? Sheesh, what kind of a goat are you?” Riptide snaps back. “Now where was I? We kissed, and I liked the other man’s kisses enough but we got right to business. So he---“
“Did he appreciate your body? Tell you that you looked good?”
“He did that before we got into bed - but you said to get right to the sex, so that’s what I’m trying to do,” Riptide says, putting on an air of affected irritation. “But yes, he did run his hands all over me. He spent a lot of time touching my arms and chest. I was glad for all the time I’ve spent at the gym. However, like some impatient people I know, this man wanted to get right to business. So he started stroking me and -“
“What do you mean ‘stroking me’? You mean…on that area?”
“I must be talking to the densest mutant on the planet. I don’t know the word in Russian, but I believe in English it’s ‘dick’. So yes, he was stroking my dick - does that make it clear enough for you? Anyway, as he stroked he asked me what I wanted to do and if I’d suck him off. I said yes. So he stopped what he was doing with his hand, he lay back and I took him in my mouth.”
“Truly disgusting!” Azazel exclaims. His hand is now in his pants. “Do you do this often? Do you do it well?”
“I’m really not going to dignify these questions with a response,” Riptide huffs. “In fact, I truly have no idea why I’m having this conversation in the first place but I suppose I will continue to humor you. So, well then - yes, I have much practice here and I can take it in quite deep. The man was doing a lot of moaning and groaning, so - to answer the question I’m sure you’re going to ask - he liked it. He kept his hand on the back of my neck. After a while he asked if he could fuck me, but I said no.”
Azazel nearly jumps out of his chair. “Wait here! You do that? You really let another man fuck you? In the ass? Is that even possible?”
Riptide takes two pronounced breaths. “Yes, I have done that on several occasions. Yes, in the ass - where else would it go? Yes, it is possible.” And then, his voice like reeds clacking together, “Have I answered all of your questions, Azazel?”
“Yes,” Azazel rasps. His breathing is now labored and the hand which is not holding his communicator is busy. “I think. But why you say no to this man’s request?”
“Let’s just say that not every man I bed is given that privilege. In fact, most are not. Can I go on now, please? So anyway, I finished up sucking on this guy. He didn’t give me a warning when he was going to finish - it’s much more courteous to tell the guy when you’re going to finish so as to avoid surprises. Once he was done, he wanted to curl up and go to sleep but I gave him a light smack and told him to get to work on me. So he did it but-“
“Did what? The same thing you did to him?”
“Yes. But he was quite half-hearted with it. It was okay. As soon as I was done, I got dressed and left. Did I provide enough detail for you?”
“No! Tell me more about what he did to you. Describe it. And tell what could be better about it too. It’s okay if you don’t have right words in English; I will figure it out.”
Riptide very much doubts that, given some of Azazel’s earlier questions.
“Please,” Azazel encourages.
“Alright, though I find it curious that you require all this detail about acts that apparently disgust you. However, I will satisfy your curiosity.”
With that, Riptide provides the detail Azazel seeks. He hears Azazel’s labored breathing on the other end, notes that the man is silent for some time, and smiles when a drained voice on the other end thanks him before closing the connection.
***
The next night, Riptide is alone in his small room, laying out his silk pajamas as he prepares for bed. He enjoys the way they look spread on the bed and looks forward to hanging up his suit and donning the pajamas. This night, the man on guard duty is Punisher, which means that Riptide is free to enjoy his sleep.
Instantly, Azazel appears in a gust of fire and smoke.
“Do. Not. Do That!” Riptide exclaims. “What did I say about surprises yesterday?”
“I am sorry. I just got back from a mission and it was fastest way here.” Azazel spies the spare chair across from Riptide’s bed and seats himself upon it. Once seated, he gives his shirt a crisp tug, straightening it. “I need to hear more about this problem of yours. Please, tell me about another one of your encounters.”
Riptide remains standing and crosses his arms over his chest. “This is truly unbelievable. Why should I?”
“I have never heard anything like this before. Of course I still find it all disgusting, but I---“
“You really need to learn a new word for ‘disgusting’,” Riptide remarks. He observes Azazel and notes that the Russian apparently is not leaving anytime soon. “Alright. I will do so. But this is the last time!” he concludes strongly.
“Would you turn down the lights a little?” Azazel asks.
“The gall,” Riptide mutters, as he switches off the light.
With that, Riptide slips off his shoes, unbuttons his suit jacket, and sits on the bed. He and Azazel are facing the same direction and not making eye contact.
“So, what is it you wish to hear about? My last encounter prior to the one I described yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Let me think. It has been a few months.”
“How often do you do this?” Azazel asks.
“It’s sex, Azazel - I do it as often as I can. Which, unfortunately, is not too often. Ever since I joined the Hellfire Club I do not have much free time. It is hard to find men who enjoy other men, though I have located a few places where I can go.”
“Do you queers ever settle down with one person?” Azazel asks, turning his head slightly so he can see Riptide. “Live together like married couples?”
“I have heard that some do but I believe it is hard. Hard to find someone, and hard to find a place where you can live undisturbed. Now then, what is with all this small-talk?” Riptide asks, shifting around on the bed. “I thought you wanted me to get right to telling you about the sex.”
“I do!” Azazel insists. “Please begin.”
Riptide recounts one of his sexual encounters for Azazel. When he gets to the point where the other man ejaculates in Riptide’s hands as a result of Riptide stroking him, Azazel stops the story.
“So this man, he did not get that privilege of getting to fuck you either then?”
“Well, given that he just finished all over my hands, I think the answer is clearly no,” Riptide says. Eyes now adjusted to the dark, Riptide can see Azazel out of the corner of his eye and it’s pretty obvious that Azazel’s own hands are busy now. “Besides, like I said, most men don’t receive that honor.”
“What do they have to do to get it?” Azazel’s voice sounds as if he has just drunk poison and is waiting for Riptide to tell him the antidote.
Riptide sighs. “A few not unreasonable things. Be dashingly handsome for one, and preferably rich so he can bestow lots of gifts on me. Be a gentleman. Spend a lot of time telling me that I’m gorgeous, touching me in a way that shows that they mean it. They must be wanting to make love as it is called, not just have sex. And they must be very, very concerned that I will enjoy it all too.”
“I have lots of money,” Azazel offers, the words spilling out quickly. “I can be gentleman and I can do everything you just said except be handsome.”
“Is that so? What are you saying then?” Riptide asks, his eyes narrowing.
Azazel remembers himself. “Nothing! Nothing, Riptide - I do not know what I am saying. So, where were we? Ah, yes, this other man just finished. What did he do to you? Tell me about it.”
“He did the same thing to me as I did to him,” Riptide says simply. “I slept with him a few times before and he’s not good at the oral thing - he tends to gag. It takes some practice to get it right, you know. Not everyone can perform it perfectly as I can,” he boasts.
“Can you describe it in more detail please, Riptide?” Azazel asks. “His hands on you and how you felt?”
Riptide smiled. Azazel seemed to be close to finishing himself judging from the sounds coming from the other side of the room. Riptide himself has decided to wait until Azazel leaves before reaching into his own pants.
“He gripped it too tightly at first, so I had to tell him to loosen it up a bit. But once he got going, it was quite good. He pulled and pulled on it, I had all these sexy feelings running through me. I had plenty of pre-cum so I was nice and slick. He had a good rhythm going. I moaned a bit - I can get loud once I’m enjoying it.” Riptide pauses; he thinks Azazel’s movements have slowed. “Is that enough detail for you?”
“Yes,” Azazel says, his voice strained. “But please tell me what happened next,” he adds, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“Very well. In fact, I almost forgot the best part! At one point he kept going with one hand but broke away with his other hand. He started to gently finger me.”
“To-to what?” sputters Azazel.
Azazel hears a pronounced sigh from the other side of the room.
“Fingering. You have to know what that is, don’t you?” Riptide shakes his head and continues, “What am I saying? Of course you have no idea what it is. And you are not going to leave here until I explain it to you, are you? It involves one man stroking and touching the other man in a very private spot. A spot which can convey much pleasure.”
“In…a spot…where….Is it spot that I think it is?” Azazel manages.
“Yes. And so I must say that this man did this quite well. He continued to stroke me with one hand while fingering me with the other. He made sure his fingers were good and wet before he began the fingering. He touched me around my sensitive spot, and he stroked the opening. It felt nice just for it to be rubbed. But I did not give him permission to enter, mind you - not even one finger. You already know my criteria for that.”
“I know,” Azazel says. This time, Riptide thinks, Azazel’s voice is wistful and desperate, as if he hasn’t eaten in three days and a tantalizing meal is just beyond his reach.
“It was quite good; nice to experience that before I finished,” Riptide concludes. “Now,” he says abruptly, “I really do need to get some sleep. Please leave me alone.”
Azazel takes his time in responding. “Thank you for this explanation.” Azazel then teleports out of the room.
***
Riptide is ready the third night. Azazel teleports in as soon as Riptide has returned from guard duty, donned his silk pajamas, and turned off the light.
“What do you want now, Azazel?” Riptide asks, staring at the appellation and his surrounding red and black fiery smoke. “Would you like me to draw you a picture? Would you like me to write it all down for you?” He is again affecting an exasperated tone.
“I would like you to demonstrate on me. Please. Just so I can better understand this.” Azazel’s voice nearly shakes.
“What do you have in your hands?” Riptide asks. His eyes beginning to adjust to the dark, he can see that Azazel appears to be holding some items.
“A few gifts for you. Just things I thought you might like.”
As Riptide steps closer to receive the gifts, he sniffs the faint scent of cologne on Azazel.
“Did - did I ever tell you that you were gorgeous?” Azazel asks, his voice sounding almost timid.
“There’s a good boy,” Riptide says quietly, taking the packages from Azazel and setting them on the desk. He steps up to Azazel and strokes the side of his face. “Thank you for noticing.”
“I might give you your demonstration tonight,” Riptide continues, murmuring. “Maybe. If I deem you worthy.” One of his hands begins to play with Azazel’s hair, which tonight is soft to the touch.
“Do - do you want to open your gifts?” Azazel asks, glancing nervously towards the packages now on the desk.
“Perhaps later,” Riptide smiles. His other hand is reaching for Azazel’s suit and starting to unfasten the jacket. “First, let’s see if you know how to kiss.”
“I-I can kiss,” Azazel manages, hating the way his voice stutters.
“I will be the judge of that,” Riptide whispers, as his fingers brush against Azazel’s nipples. When Azazel moans, Riptide says, “Oh, sensitive there. How nice. Now kiss me.”
Azazel does as Riptide requests. He tries to discern how Riptide might like it, tries to slow down and move his lips in a sensual manner.
“Not too bad,” Riptide says, breaking away. “You don’t have that much experience, do you? But still, not so bad. Start the kiss a little softer and don’t plunge the tongue in right away. Let’s try again - but first,” he says, turning his head towards the bed, “let’s get you out of this suit.”
“But I - well, I am not quite as beautiful as you are,” Azazel protests, again disliking the meekness in his voice.
“That’s okay,” Riptide answers lightly. “No man is. But I would like to see your goods. So you need to get naked.”
“You knew this would happen all along, didn’t you?” Azazel asks as he quickly removes his clothing with shaking hands.
“Your game was not very subtle,” Riptide says flatly as Azazel’s clothing is dropped to the floor. “And it’s always the ones who carry on about how revolting this is who want me badly. But still, I am intrigued. And let’s see what this tail of yours can do. Hmmmmm,” he eyes Azazel’s body. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”
THE END
Reviews and feedback are always welcomed.
Word count: 3,300
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, unfortunately.
Summary and Lots of Author’s Notes:
Written for the fanfic exchange over on azazel_riptide, this fic is somewhere between crack and smut.
I was assigned to write for kirstenlouise , who requested: “PG-13 through NC-17 (strong preference for R/NC-17). Well, I am hoping this prompt or this prompt gets filled eventually, but you’re not required to write either. In general, I like these things: underage, polyamory (I am partial to Shaw’s involvement, lol), switching, rough sex, biting/clawing/struggling/holding down, anal sex, fingering, jealousy/possessiveness, claiming, Azazel being an asshole, tail!kink, unhealthy/ unbalanced relationships, general badassery, AND LOTS OF SMUT OKAY? OKAY! ETA: Oh, and I just want to note that I like writing/reading both top!Azazel and top!Riptide. :)”.
Kirsten, I didn’t fill either of the prompts you requested, but I hope that this fic falls somewhere along the lines of what you were looking for anyway. On the other hand, I’m not sure I captured any of your ideas other than Azazel being an asshole, smut, unhealthy relationships, fingering, and (well, references to) anal sex. So if this doesn’t at all do it for you, let me know - I could extend one of the scenes and make this an NC-17 if you wish, and I also have a second fic idea that I could try out instead.
***
Right Where I Want Him
Azazel stares blankly at his fellow member of the Hellfire Club, not believing the words he has just heard. “What did you say?” Azazel breathes, feeling his blood beginning to boil.
The other fellow, a man who goes by the appellation Punisher, stands looking at Azazel. It’s hard to tell when Azazel is flushed given that his skin is already red, but Punisher can see the way Azazel leans forward as if he’s ready to pounce and has a look in his eyes bordering on furious. Or delirious.
“That new man. Riptide,” Punisher repeats. “He’s a queer. I can tell it from the way he dresses. The way he moves. The man’s a total queer. You know what I mean, right? You have those in Russia too, don’t you?” he asks. Then, as if to supply further elucidation, “Fairy. Homo. Cocksucker.”
Azazel slams a fist into his other palm. “How disgusting! I will not allow!”
Punisher shrugs. “There’s no point in complaining to Mr. Shaw. He says this guy is really powerful and does all this stuff to command the air and water, we’re going to need his powers because of the fleet of ships we’re going to get, or something like that. You’re just going to have to live with this, Azazel.”
Azazel paces around the room repeatedly as if he is caged, before turning towards the door and stalking off.
***
The next time Azazel sees Riptide it is inside the training area of their new headquarters. Riptide is fighting in some battle simulation, thanks to some snazzy programs Shaw has whipped up. Azazel eyes him. Riptide’s suit is perfectly pressed. His hair looks windblown and fetching, even after the fight. His features are of the sort that could cause any woman to swoon or at least to giggle self-consciously. Azazel wonders what Riptide looks like under that suit.
As Riptide heads to leave the training area, Azazel stands by the doorway.
“Queer,” he snarls quietly, low enough that only Riptide can hear.
“What of it?” Riptide asks loudly, tilting his chin up and looking at Azazel’s eyes.
“That is disgusting,” Azazel sneers before rapidly teleporting away.
***
Each member of the Hellfire Club has been issued a communications device. Shaw has apparently come up with some fancy name for them, but Azazel knows the term in English: walkie-talkie. Azazel has already used his frequently and he likes that they allow a measure of privacy; you can’t monitor other people’s conversations on it. Which is fortunate, considering Azazel’s plans.
It is late at night. Azazel is on guard duty but each sensor indicates that this night will be as uneventful as the last. No one knows their location and the Hellfire Club is safely ensconced away.
So Azazel whips out his communicator and contacts Riptide.
“What is it?” Riptide asks. His voice is even; he doesn’t sound as if he’s been sleeping or was disturbed.
“I need to know more about this revolting habit of yours,” Azazel sneers into the device. “Tell me about what you queers do.”
“What?” Riptide asks. Azazel can practically see him rolling his eyes.
“You hear me,” Azazel says, his voice brusque and businesslike. “Tell me in detail the last time you had sex. Every bit of it, tell me about. Now.”
There is silence on the other end of the device for a moment or two. Then Azazel hears Riptide mutter, “Oh for God’s sake.” And then, at last, Riptide says, “Okay. But this might be more than you bargained for.”
Riptide takes another breath and begins, “You want me to start with how I met the guy or --?”
“Just get to the sex,” Azazel barks.
“Okay. I have nothing else to do tonight,” Riptide agrees. “So I will tell you about it.”
Azazel settles back into his chair and presses his warm face against the walkie-talkie as Riptide begins his story.
“Well, the other man and I undressed and we got into bed. He kissed me and-“
“Did you like it??” Azazel asks. His heart rate is already starting to accelerate.
“Of course I liked it! Don’t you generally like kissing the women you sleep with? Sheesh, what kind of a goat are you?” Riptide snaps back. “Now where was I? We kissed, and I liked the other man’s kisses enough but we got right to business. So he---“
“Did he appreciate your body? Tell you that you looked good?”
“He did that before we got into bed - but you said to get right to the sex, so that’s what I’m trying to do,” Riptide says, putting on an air of affected irritation. “But yes, he did run his hands all over me. He spent a lot of time touching my arms and chest. I was glad for all the time I’ve spent at the gym. However, like some impatient people I know, this man wanted to get right to business. So he started stroking me and -“
“What do you mean ‘stroking me’? You mean…on that area?”
“I must be talking to the densest mutant on the planet. I don’t know the word in Russian, but I believe in English it’s ‘dick’. So yes, he was stroking my dick - does that make it clear enough for you? Anyway, as he stroked he asked me what I wanted to do and if I’d suck him off. I said yes. So he stopped what he was doing with his hand, he lay back and I took him in my mouth.”
“Truly disgusting!” Azazel exclaims. His hand is now in his pants. “Do you do this often? Do you do it well?”
“I’m really not going to dignify these questions with a response,” Riptide huffs. “In fact, I truly have no idea why I’m having this conversation in the first place but I suppose I will continue to humor you. So, well then - yes, I have much practice here and I can take it in quite deep. The man was doing a lot of moaning and groaning, so - to answer the question I’m sure you’re going to ask - he liked it. He kept his hand on the back of my neck. After a while he asked if he could fuck me, but I said no.”
Azazel nearly jumps out of his chair. “Wait here! You do that? You really let another man fuck you? In the ass? Is that even possible?”
Riptide takes two pronounced breaths. “Yes, I have done that on several occasions. Yes, in the ass - where else would it go? Yes, it is possible.” And then, his voice like reeds clacking together, “Have I answered all of your questions, Azazel?”
“Yes,” Azazel rasps. His breathing is now labored and the hand which is not holding his communicator is busy. “I think. But why you say no to this man’s request?”
“Let’s just say that not every man I bed is given that privilege. In fact, most are not. Can I go on now, please? So anyway, I finished up sucking on this guy. He didn’t give me a warning when he was going to finish - it’s much more courteous to tell the guy when you’re going to finish so as to avoid surprises. Once he was done, he wanted to curl up and go to sleep but I gave him a light smack and told him to get to work on me. So he did it but-“
“Did what? The same thing you did to him?”
“Yes. But he was quite half-hearted with it. It was okay. As soon as I was done, I got dressed and left. Did I provide enough detail for you?”
“No! Tell me more about what he did to you. Describe it. And tell what could be better about it too. It’s okay if you don’t have right words in English; I will figure it out.”
Riptide very much doubts that, given some of Azazel’s earlier questions.
“Please,” Azazel encourages.
“Alright, though I find it curious that you require all this detail about acts that apparently disgust you. However, I will satisfy your curiosity.”
With that, Riptide provides the detail Azazel seeks. He hears Azazel’s labored breathing on the other end, notes that the man is silent for some time, and smiles when a drained voice on the other end thanks him before closing the connection.
***
The next night, Riptide is alone in his small room, laying out his silk pajamas as he prepares for bed. He enjoys the way they look spread on the bed and looks forward to hanging up his suit and donning the pajamas. This night, the man on guard duty is Punisher, which means that Riptide is free to enjoy his sleep.
Instantly, Azazel appears in a gust of fire and smoke.
“Do. Not. Do That!” Riptide exclaims. “What did I say about surprises yesterday?”
“I am sorry. I just got back from a mission and it was fastest way here.” Azazel spies the spare chair across from Riptide’s bed and seats himself upon it. Once seated, he gives his shirt a crisp tug, straightening it. “I need to hear more about this problem of yours. Please, tell me about another one of your encounters.”
Riptide remains standing and crosses his arms over his chest. “This is truly unbelievable. Why should I?”
“I have never heard anything like this before. Of course I still find it all disgusting, but I---“
“You really need to learn a new word for ‘disgusting’,” Riptide remarks. He observes Azazel and notes that the Russian apparently is not leaving anytime soon. “Alright. I will do so. But this is the last time!” he concludes strongly.
“Would you turn down the lights a little?” Azazel asks.
“The gall,” Riptide mutters, as he switches off the light.
With that, Riptide slips off his shoes, unbuttons his suit jacket, and sits on the bed. He and Azazel are facing the same direction and not making eye contact.
“So, what is it you wish to hear about? My last encounter prior to the one I described yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Let me think. It has been a few months.”
“How often do you do this?” Azazel asks.
“It’s sex, Azazel - I do it as often as I can. Which, unfortunately, is not too often. Ever since I joined the Hellfire Club I do not have much free time. It is hard to find men who enjoy other men, though I have located a few places where I can go.”
“Do you queers ever settle down with one person?” Azazel asks, turning his head slightly so he can see Riptide. “Live together like married couples?”
“I have heard that some do but I believe it is hard. Hard to find someone, and hard to find a place where you can live undisturbed. Now then, what is with all this small-talk?” Riptide asks, shifting around on the bed. “I thought you wanted me to get right to telling you about the sex.”
“I do!” Azazel insists. “Please begin.”
Riptide recounts one of his sexual encounters for Azazel. When he gets to the point where the other man ejaculates in Riptide’s hands as a result of Riptide stroking him, Azazel stops the story.
“So this man, he did not get that privilege of getting to fuck you either then?”
“Well, given that he just finished all over my hands, I think the answer is clearly no,” Riptide says. Eyes now adjusted to the dark, Riptide can see Azazel out of the corner of his eye and it’s pretty obvious that Azazel’s own hands are busy now. “Besides, like I said, most men don’t receive that honor.”
“What do they have to do to get it?” Azazel’s voice sounds as if he has just drunk poison and is waiting for Riptide to tell him the antidote.
Riptide sighs. “A few not unreasonable things. Be dashingly handsome for one, and preferably rich so he can bestow lots of gifts on me. Be a gentleman. Spend a lot of time telling me that I’m gorgeous, touching me in a way that shows that they mean it. They must be wanting to make love as it is called, not just have sex. And they must be very, very concerned that I will enjoy it all too.”
“I have lots of money,” Azazel offers, the words spilling out quickly. “I can be gentleman and I can do everything you just said except be handsome.”
“Is that so? What are you saying then?” Riptide asks, his eyes narrowing.
Azazel remembers himself. “Nothing! Nothing, Riptide - I do not know what I am saying. So, where were we? Ah, yes, this other man just finished. What did he do to you? Tell me about it.”
“He did the same thing to me as I did to him,” Riptide says simply. “I slept with him a few times before and he’s not good at the oral thing - he tends to gag. It takes some practice to get it right, you know. Not everyone can perform it perfectly as I can,” he boasts.
“Can you describe it in more detail please, Riptide?” Azazel asks. “His hands on you and how you felt?”
Riptide smiled. Azazel seemed to be close to finishing himself judging from the sounds coming from the other side of the room. Riptide himself has decided to wait until Azazel leaves before reaching into his own pants.
“He gripped it too tightly at first, so I had to tell him to loosen it up a bit. But once he got going, it was quite good. He pulled and pulled on it, I had all these sexy feelings running through me. I had plenty of pre-cum so I was nice and slick. He had a good rhythm going. I moaned a bit - I can get loud once I’m enjoying it.” Riptide pauses; he thinks Azazel’s movements have slowed. “Is that enough detail for you?”
“Yes,” Azazel says, his voice strained. “But please tell me what happened next,” he adds, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“Very well. In fact, I almost forgot the best part! At one point he kept going with one hand but broke away with his other hand. He started to gently finger me.”
“To-to what?” sputters Azazel.
Azazel hears a pronounced sigh from the other side of the room.
“Fingering. You have to know what that is, don’t you?” Riptide shakes his head and continues, “What am I saying? Of course you have no idea what it is. And you are not going to leave here until I explain it to you, are you? It involves one man stroking and touching the other man in a very private spot. A spot which can convey much pleasure.”
“In…a spot…where….Is it spot that I think it is?” Azazel manages.
“Yes. And so I must say that this man did this quite well. He continued to stroke me with one hand while fingering me with the other. He made sure his fingers were good and wet before he began the fingering. He touched me around my sensitive spot, and he stroked the opening. It felt nice just for it to be rubbed. But I did not give him permission to enter, mind you - not even one finger. You already know my criteria for that.”
“I know,” Azazel says. This time, Riptide thinks, Azazel’s voice is wistful and desperate, as if he hasn’t eaten in three days and a tantalizing meal is just beyond his reach.
“It was quite good; nice to experience that before I finished,” Riptide concludes. “Now,” he says abruptly, “I really do need to get some sleep. Please leave me alone.”
Azazel takes his time in responding. “Thank you for this explanation.” Azazel then teleports out of the room.
***
Riptide is ready the third night. Azazel teleports in as soon as Riptide has returned from guard duty, donned his silk pajamas, and turned off the light.
“What do you want now, Azazel?” Riptide asks, staring at the appellation and his surrounding red and black fiery smoke. “Would you like me to draw you a picture? Would you like me to write it all down for you?” He is again affecting an exasperated tone.
“I would like you to demonstrate on me. Please. Just so I can better understand this.” Azazel’s voice nearly shakes.
“What do you have in your hands?” Riptide asks. His eyes beginning to adjust to the dark, he can see that Azazel appears to be holding some items.
“A few gifts for you. Just things I thought you might like.”
As Riptide steps closer to receive the gifts, he sniffs the faint scent of cologne on Azazel.
“Did - did I ever tell you that you were gorgeous?” Azazel asks, his voice sounding almost timid.
“There’s a good boy,” Riptide says quietly, taking the packages from Azazel and setting them on the desk. He steps up to Azazel and strokes the side of his face. “Thank you for noticing.”
“I might give you your demonstration tonight,” Riptide continues, murmuring. “Maybe. If I deem you worthy.” One of his hands begins to play with Azazel’s hair, which tonight is soft to the touch.
“Do - do you want to open your gifts?” Azazel asks, glancing nervously towards the packages now on the desk.
“Perhaps later,” Riptide smiles. His other hand is reaching for Azazel’s suit and starting to unfasten the jacket. “First, let’s see if you know how to kiss.”
“I-I can kiss,” Azazel manages, hating the way his voice stutters.
“I will be the judge of that,” Riptide whispers, as his fingers brush against Azazel’s nipples. When Azazel moans, Riptide says, “Oh, sensitive there. How nice. Now kiss me.”
Azazel does as Riptide requests. He tries to discern how Riptide might like it, tries to slow down and move his lips in a sensual manner.
“Not too bad,” Riptide says, breaking away. “You don’t have that much experience, do you? But still, not so bad. Start the kiss a little softer and don’t plunge the tongue in right away. Let’s try again - but first,” he says, turning his head towards the bed, “let’s get you out of this suit.”
“But I - well, I am not quite as beautiful as you are,” Azazel protests, again disliking the meekness in his voice.
“That’s okay,” Riptide answers lightly. “No man is. But I would like to see your goods. So you need to get naked.”
“You knew this would happen all along, didn’t you?” Azazel asks as he quickly removes his clothing with shaking hands.
“Your game was not very subtle,” Riptide says flatly as Azazel’s clothing is dropped to the floor. “And it’s always the ones who carry on about how revolting this is who want me badly. But still, I am intrigued. And let’s see what this tail of yours can do. Hmmmmm,” he eyes Azazel’s body. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”
THE END
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