Casualties

Title: Casualties
Series: Kyou Kara Maou
Character(s): Gwendal/Gunter
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Slash
Spoilers: Just a bit farther down season 1, I think?
Word Count: 7,900
Summary: Gwendal gets to release some pent-up tension and Gunter enjoys the luxury of consent.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou and make no money from writing this story.
Warning(s): rough sex, hints of non-con, also Gwendal uh...isn't very nice here. Also, this fic is unbeta'd and unpolished, although it was kindly given a read-through by MD. Kindly proceed at your own risk.
Notes: This was just supposed to be an addition to the (sadly small) pile of shameless porn fics of the Gwendal/Gunter persuasion, but it didn't want to be. :/ Still porn, though. The Stoffel bit was partly inspired by Crystalwrenn's gorgeous fic "Before War."


"This doesn't need to be the chore you're determined to turn it into, Gwendal."

Gwendal looked over his shoulder to find Gunter standing at the open door to his room. The advisor looked surprisingly casual without his cloak and weaponry. He'd foregone two layers of outer clothing and was sporting the regulation plain white shirt and pants typically worn underneath. His lack of footwear and the way he was fiddling with the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt gave the impression that he may have been preparing for bed.

Gwendal could vaguely remember a time when seeing the advisor in such attire was uncomfortable for them both. But thrown into the numerous diplomatic and military missions as they were after his mother's renouncement of the throne, they'd unavoidably seen each other wearing far less, and during far less amiable circumstances. "It's doing an excellent job of being a chore without my help," he gruffly replied, turning his back fully from the window in order to face the other demon. "We've had to suffer two unfriendly human encounters on the way here, only to hear that their king had absolutely no knowledge of our arrival. You may like to be kept waiting for days, but I do not." He forcefully peeled his right glove from his hand and began tugging on his left. It was unfair to take out his ill mood on Gunter, he knew, but the man was often so conveniently around when he was suffering a temper. "I don't like leaving the castle under Raven's care."

"Neither do I," Gunter replied calmly. "But there was no one else. Gwendal..." Gwendal felt Gunter's slim hands on top of his, guiding his movements more gently. The glove peeled off smoothly under his touch. "Stoffel holds no sway now."

"Small consolation." Gwendal tossed both gloves to a corner of the room and stalked toward the bed. He sat on the edge, the cushion feeling a bit harder than what he was normally used to against his thighs. The covers didn't even look laundered. He braced his elbows on his widespread knees and tiredly rubbed his sweating palms across his face. "Raven could be dangerous with just the slightest touch of ambition."

"That man doesn't take a single breath without Stoffel's permission. You know this." Gunter's voice acquired a quality that Gwendal wasn't used to hearing. He looked up at the approaching man, but Gunter's expression remained placating. "And this mission is necessary."

Gwendal sighed. "It needs to be over sooner. There's work waiting at home."

"And we'll deal with it when we get there." He heard the rustle of fabric, and then Gunter was in his line of sight again, kneeling in front of him, his hands once again wrapped around his. "You're not alone in this, Gwen."

But it feels like I am. Gwendal wanted to give voice to that nagging thought, but something held his tongue. His resentment toward his uncle, his mother, and his siblings boiled hot and bitter in his veins. Instead, he watched as Gunter's pristine white hands held his own callused ones in a tight grip, a thumb stroking comfortingly near the skin of his wrist.

Silence reigned for a few moments, and Gwendal, who bore the weight of several battles and an ongoing war on his shoulders, felt far too tired to break it. At length, Gunter had released his hands in lieu of stroking his inner wrists, his fingers gliding past the narrow material of the sleeves. It was distracting enough that when he spoke, Gwendal almost missed hearing the words.

"I can show you ways to relax," Gunter said, Gwendal's tired brain clinging to the suggestive hint in his voice, "if you'll let me."

It took Gwendal a bit of time to process what he'd just heard, and when he did, the involuntary hard swallow that followed seemed to make Gunter smile. It was an odd sight, considering what he'd just said and the almost shy smile that was now gracing his lips.

Unable to think of an appropriate response, Gwendal just let the silence continue, uncaring that it would be taken as assent and feeling no desire to dissuade the notion. He was suddenly very keenly aware that he was sitting on a bed, exhausted, the long journey playing upon his nerves and reflexes, with a beautiful demon kneeling between his widespread legs. He couldn't read much beyond Gunter's shy smile of an expression, but when he looked into his eyes, he thought he could feel both kindness and understanding.

Pale hands cradled his jaw, and then Gunter was leaning forward. Gwendal closed his eyes when he felt those soft, smooth lips settling on his own chapped ones. He let out a small breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding when that softness nibbled slowly along his lower lip, then nipped at the corner of his mouth. The lips moved back to a full-on kiss, this time seeking passage, and Gwendal relented with barely a second thought.

He'd been kissed before -- one does not grow up as a noble's son without numerous offers from certain quarters -- and he couldn't help but admire the skill with which Gunter coaxed out his own tongue and drew the tentative kisses back into his own mouth. With a tilt of his head, adjusting the angle, Gwendal's participation became more active, his tongue feeling the smooth porcelain of Gunter's teeth, then slipping in to slide across and against his friend's own tongue.

Friend. He wasn't sure if Gunter even suited that term -- there was such distance between them prior to a month ago. Even now, though he might enjoy the other demon's company immensely, he was hardly a confidant, barely a drinking partner. This offer of companionship, though welcome -- and oh, how welcome and timely it was -- also felt utterly contrived.

Gwendal slowly became aware that he was having trouble breathing and thinking at the same time. He tried to draw back, but Gunter drew him forward again, their liplock unbroken. A heady sensation broke behind his eyes and clouded his thoughts, his hands rising of their own accord to alternately cup Gunter's neck and run the tips of his fingers through that waterfall of silken hair. He felt the steady rise of his arousal straining his trousers with a brief scoffing thought that it was being far too eager to assert itself after just one kiss.

Gunter's own hands left his face and settled on top of his, which were still caressing the advisor's neck. It felt like a surrender of control, and perhaps that was what it was. They both gave a slight moan as the older man tilted his head back, changing the angle of their kiss, and Gwendal used it to dive in deeper into that hot, moist mouth. Gunter's tongue urged his on, wrapping underneath, sliding across, the tip occasionally teasing and pressing before sliding back again. He was gratified to hear that the other demon was having a bit of difficulty breathing as well, and when he drew back this time, he didn't meet resistance. He caught his breath while watching Gunter catch his, those thick, pale lashes fanned across reddened cheeks, those sinful pair of pink lips looking swollen and ravaged.

Gwendal kept one hand sliding across Gunter's neck in idle caresses, his fingers playing with the strands of pale hair that got caught within the movements. He waited, silent, as Gunter's bright eyes opened and sought his. The shy smile was just starting to fester again when Gwendal quietly asked, "Did you also do this for Stoffel?"

Gunter stilled, the smile swiftly aborted, but no other expression replaced it. Gwendal sought his gaze and met eyes more quiet than still water.

Slowly, Gunter lifted Gwendal's inert hand to his lips. Their eyes never broke contact as he grazed his lips across its sun-kissed back.

He had a feeling he wouldn't get an answer, but the need to ask had been unaccountably overwhelming. He felt strangely aware that he was facing a demon several decades his senior, advisor to a number of Demon Kings, and secret-keeper to who knows how many people. He watched Gunter skirt a kiss across the palm of his hand and inside his wrist, before carefully laying his hand down on his knee as if he were handling porcelain.

"You're too tense," Gunter muttered. Gwendal secretly wished he'd just kept silent. "I know you're angry. Everyone can feel it a mile away. You're short with the soldiers and impatient with your peers. It has to stop."

And in the middle of this short monologue, Gunter's eyes had dropped and his hands had risen to unlatch and tug down the band of Gwendal's military trousers.

Gwendal leaned back, watching silently as Gunter made short work of his fastenings and drew out his flushed, half-hard cock. The advisor took his time tucking the band farther down, exposing as much of Gwendal as the constriction would allow. When he was satisfied, he lightly grazed the tips of his fingers across the hard length, drawing out a hissed gasp from the younger demon, and then slid his hand downward to cup and fondle his sac. Gunter leaned forward, his lips laying a long, puckered kiss at the tip of his shaft, then turned his head slightly to the side to run a long lick across the entire length with his hot tongue.

Gwendal braced one hand behind him as he struggled to control his breathing. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him, and he knew without a second's hesitation that future encounters with anyone else would fail in comparison to this moment. Gunter's mouth and fingers played him like a virtuoso, that hot cavern giving just enough of itself to tease, lick, and effectively heighten the younger man's excitement. His cock grew and lengthened under the skilled ministrations. Gwendal had to keep himself from moaning when a few drops of precum formed at the tip, unnoticed, then slid across Gunter's cheek in a pearly-white streak when he moved his head back to lay more butterfly kisses on the weeping glans.

Any more of this teasing and Gwendal wouldn't be able to last very long. And uncomfortable as he was about Gunter's motives, he had no intentions of spending himself without feeling that teasing mouth wrapped snugly around his cock.

He moved his other hand forward, petting Gunter's hair, then sliding downward to press a thumb against the hollow of his cheek just as Gunter began licking the underside of his cock. Gunter's eyes opened wider and sought his expression. Gwendal had only a moment's reprieve to wonder what the other demon could have seen on his face when those pale, bow-shaped lips opened to let the hard length slide steadily into his mouth.

Gwendal grunted and had to fight himself from harshly grabbing at Gunter's head and giving a vicious thrust. Gunter's mouth felt like a furnace after minutes of his shaft being exposed to the cool night air, and the sensation of those smooth lips and wet tongue enveloping and sliding across his sensitive skin was almost too much. The tip of his cock bumped the back of Gunter's throat -- an unexpected hitch which had Gunter making a small, alarmed sound and drawing back a bit, but keeping half of Gwendal's cock still within. More precum slid from the tip, and Gwendal could feel that agile tongue sliding across the opening, lapping up every drop.

He let his hand fall astray of the advisor's head, clenching and unclenching slightly in the air frustration. He deepened his breathing, glad when it helped him regain some of his calm -- he wanted this to last for as long as he could make it. Gunter seemed to have other ideas, however. After a few seconds' pause, he began to steadily feed himself Gwendal's cock again. And started to suckle.

The lewd, dirty noises coming out of the advisor's mouth, as well as the sight of that beautiful head bobbing back and forth, hand wrapped around the base of his cock and tight, glistening lips sealed like elastic around his length broke what little control Gwendal still had. He cursed loudly under his breath and grabbed a handful of Gunter's hair. Gunter's unoccupied hand, which had been laying on Gwendal's thigh, made an aborted move toward his head, but the advisor seemed to consciously rein the reaction in fairly quickly. Gwendal waited until Gunter's hand settled on his leg again, then he used his grip on the other demon's hair as leverage to guide the pace, feeling the steady build of his climax match the speed with which that mouth obscenely sucked and swallowed nearly his entire length. He could sense every nuance of Gunter's mouth with every thrust of his cock -- the walls of his cheeks, the sides of his teeth, the arch and undulation of his wet tongue. He shifted his grip on Gunter's head to wrap more of his hair tighter around his fist, and as he felt his passion approach its peek, he tensed his arm and pulled.

He couldn't see Gunter's expression, but he was surprised to feel very little guilt when his sudden move elicited small choking noises from beneath. His cock throbbed within the heat, straining as it was against his impending climax, but he wanted a few more thrusts just like that -- rough, unrestrained, and entirely his to control. But that single thrust of his pelvis and sharp pull on Gunter's head made him sink in deeper than he'd ever previously been. White hot pleasure filled his brain as he felt the tip of his cock bump against the back of Gunter's throat and slide through. The head of his shaft was suddenly wrapped within the silky-smooth tight wetness of Gunter's gagging throat, and that was his undoing.

He gave a loud, growling cry as he spilled his seed deep into Gunter's mouth and throat, his fist still keeping the older demon's head pressed tight against his crotch. As the first few blasts of his seed passed, he dimly became aware of the panicked little pushes that Gunter's hands made against his thighs and he regretfully relented a bit, easing his grip on the hair enough for Gunter to pull back a few inches. He spent the rest of his seed into Gunter's swallowing mouth, his gaze taking in the reddened face and the small droplets of unshed tears on the older demon's tightly-shut lashes as he struggled to simultaneously swallow and breathe.

It was half a minute before he completely eased his hold on Gunter's hair. His spent shaft slipped from glistening, parted lips, the tip briefly enjoying a small link of saliva with that ravaged lower lip that swiftly broke as the advisor pulled back to regain his composure. Gwendal merely scooted back on the bed, laying himself more comfortably over the covers as he waited while Gunter coughed and hid behind his palm, watching as that slender throat worked to breathe and consume the last drops of his seed. It was another half minute before Gunter dropped his hand. The deep red flush on his face made the pearly streak on his cheek stand out all the more. Despite being utterly sated, Gwendal spared a moment's regret that he'd spent himself in the confines of Gunter's mouth.

"Having qualms with your offer already?" Gwendal asked, careful to keep his expression neutral. Gunter observed him in turn for a few seconds, eyes just as unreadable as they were before.

A while later, Gunter stood and walked over to the bed. Gwendal 's eyes widened slightly when the older demon crawled on top of it and settled over Gwendal, one knee on either side of his still-clad thighs. He bent down to lay a soft, almost chaste kiss on Gwendal's lips the same time as the younger demon felt his right hand being taken and pressed against the older demon's crotch.

Loose though the trousers were, the material was thin and made it easy for Gwendal to feel the unmistakable bulge beneath his hand.

"This part," Gunter breathlessly whispered against his lips, "doesn't seem to have any."

Gwendal smirked and pressed his fingers harder against the thin cloth. He captured Gunter's answering gasp in a deeper kiss of his own. Their mouths meshed without direction for a while, both demons merely enjoying the feel of soft lips and wet tongue.

Gwendal felt the stirrings of renewed interest in his flaccid cock, but he ignored it for now. He pushed at Gunter's shoulder, urging the other demon to lie on his back while he rolled to his side, following the shift in positions with small nips and kisses. "You would serve anyone who holds power on that throne, wouldn't you?" he muttered against the heated skin of Gunter's neck. He tasted the sweet scent of some floral perfume. His hand had slipped past the split between Gunter's trousers and shirt, feeling the sweaty skin of his waist under his fingers.

Gunter arched against the touch, his arm rising to settle over Gwendal's shoulder and card through the dark hair. "I would be obliged to," he replied, punctuated by a soft moan when Gwendal's hand drifted lower and squeezed the soft mound of his rear.

"What a good little soldier you are."

That came out a bit more harshly than Gwendal intended. He felt Gunter still again in his arms, though he himself didn't stop his ministrations. When the silence grew longer, he looked down to see a pair of oddly expressive violet eyes looking up at him.

Discomfort crept up his spine at the sheer sadness and worry that he saw. Gunter eventually dropped his gaze, but not before Gwendal caught a glimpse of the deep hurt behind it. Just as he thought the older demon would once again merely let silence suffice as a reply, that soft voice carefully said, "You'll find, Gwendal, that there are many things I offer freely, given the choice." Gunter swallowed, as if unsure whether to continue. "Stoffel...he took many things from me that weren't willingly offered."

And there it was, Gwendal thought, feeling slightly vindicated with his own suspicions. He didn't know exactly why he wanted to push the older man into this corner, why this confession mattered so much, but he wanted to hear it. Very badly. "The von Radford dignitary?" he quietly prompted.

He wasn't expecting his inquiry to garner such a startled reaction, but after he said it, Gunter's eyes widened and the hand that was formerly toying with his hair was suddenly gripping his shoulder. "How--" Gunter began, but halted when his voice sounded far too alarmed, "How did you...?"

Gwendal met his gaze. "There were rumors."

"There were...?"

Guilt was not an emotion Gwendal liked to associate himself with, but he was feeling a heavy backlash of it tonight. He looked directly into Gunter's worried eyes as he said, “Speculations arose when the notoriously steadfast Lord Asad von Radford was suddenly amiable to deploying his troops the very day after you were recalled to service in Blood Pledge Castle. Word from Raven was that an...'agreeable arrangement' between the two of you had been met.'”

It didn't help matters that it was no secret the von Radford lord delighted in his conquests of younger nobles, and Gunter had been a perpetual target for some odd decades. The gossip regarding the deployed troops were already widespread when Gwendal caught wind of it from Yozak. He'd wanted to dismiss it, at the time. Truth be told, he had been tired enough of conflict that he felt if this was a path the proud advisor was willing to take to turn the tides in their favor, then so be it.

The grip on his shoulder tightened painfully before the hand completely let go. Gunter seemed to deflate, his hand moving back to cover his face. "Oh, Shinou!" he said, his voice sounding choked and muffled, "What you must think of me..."

“Just rumors, Gunter.” Even as he said the words, Gwendal could hear how hollow they were. He had believed them enough for tonight, hadn't he? He brushed his fingers across Gunter's hair, right at the spot he'd so roughly gripped earlier. "We'd thought--we were made to believe you'd volunteered. If you'd resisted and come forward...mother or I, even Conrad, before he'd left--damn, Gunter, we'd have done something--"

Gunter's small, bitter chuckle pierced through his angry retort. "It's hard to resist when you awake in your own room unarmed and your only other means of defense completely nullified." He removed his hand from his face. The wetness on his palm and lashes were unmistakable, though he tried to quickly wipe them with the bed cover. "But thank you for the thought. I was only made aware of what my 'duties' would be that very first night I spent in my assigned bedroom, so it was also quite hard to protest before then."

"And afterwards?"

"What about afterwards?" Gunter met his eyes again, but this time, Gwendal saw some of his own anger reflected back at him. He found this expression more comforting. "I could hardly prove the whole thing was conspired. Raven was quick to say he'd keep my discretion. That, as unseemly as it was for me to engage in relations for the sole reason of benefiting Blood Pledge Castle, he recognized it for the necessity it was and that the Lord and Lady von Spitzburg were... 'quite pleased' with the results." A small sneer lifted the corner of Gunter's lips. It looked very out of place. "'Your Regent thanks you for your service,'" he parroted, in a fair imitation of Raven's tone. "It was easy enough for Stoffel to get whatever he wanted after that."

Gwendal's blood turned to ice. He shook his head. "No," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Mother would never have sanctioned such a thing."

Gunter met his gaze square on, and the anger behind those violet eyes burned. "Not to question the former Maou," he began, his voice hard, "but she allowed the deployment of one of her own sons in the front lines of an impenetrable battle with hardly any equipment and horses." He dropped his gaze, his voice losing the hard edge and just sounding so tired. "So forgive me if my confidence in her judgment is a little shaky."

"Don't push her into the same quarter as Stoffel." Gwendal fought to keep his own emotions in check, but he was tired of this battle as well. Having to defend the actions (and inactions) of his mother after her abandonment of the throne became part and parcel of his diplomatic missions. He'd had to do it for friends, strangers, and family members alike. But having to do it again for Gunter, who had served her alongside him throughout the war, felt far too disturbing. "Mother couldn't have known. As soon as we get back, first thing, I'll clear the whole mess up--"

"Don't!" Gunter quickly interrupted, his eyes wide and panicked. "Don't ask her, don't even mention it to her!" His hand gripped Gwendal's arm, eyes alight with entreaty. "I'd...I'd rather not know if she knew. Gwendal, I still have to work with the woman--!"

"All right. Shh," Gwendal made slow, placating strokes on Gunter's back. He'd forgotten how the advisor's changes in mood could leave a whiplash sometimes. "All right, I won't. I just..." he gave a slow, tired sigh of his own. "Mother couldn't have known."

"Perhaps." Gunter sounded doubtful.

"I am sorry, Gunter," he whispered, leaning down and planting a kiss on the older demon's temple. "I'd have done something if I knew."

He was surprised to hear a light-hearted chuckle beneath him. "And probably caused a civil war while doing it. It's all right." Gunter propped himself up on an elbow, facing Gwendal with a gentle smile. "I've had time to deal with it."

"Well, I haven't. I only heard of it today." The flippant response earned him a wider smile. "You shouldn't have had to deal with something of that scale alone."

The bright smile waned a little, though Gunter's eyes remained gentle. "I won't pretend it didn't leave its own marks, but that's in the past. The future's in your hands now. Yours and Conrart's." He moved forward and pressed their lips together in a brief, sweet kiss. "And neither of you are anything like Stoffel."

A quip about thanking the other demon for the added pressure stayed on Gwendal's tongue. Gunter's words lifted some of the darkness in his heart, dispelling the small whisperings that clung to him from corridors and among the commoners about royal families and bad eggs, and didn't Gwendal sound quite a lot like Stoffel when he issued orders? He leaned down to kiss Gunter again, their tongues meeting briefly, marveling at how sweet his lips still tasted after the bitterness of today's conversations.

The kiss slowly grew more aggressive as neither demon wished to break it. Gwendal felt that familiar touch moving down his arm, then capturing his hand and placing it back on that enticing mound of flesh near the small of Gunter's back. Gwendal squeezed and breathed in Gunter's small moan through the kiss.

He wanted to -- his blood sang wildly for an encore of earlier's activities, but...

Gunter broke their kiss to breathlessly murmur against his jawline. "Let me do this for you, Gwendal."

He groaned, his fingers diving into that hidden cleft and sliding across the soft skin. He pressed his cheek against Gunter's and asked in a rough voice, "Are you sure?"

"Completely."

Gwendal nodded. That was all the assent he needed.

He mouthed small kisses toward Gunter's ear while his hands busied themselves with tugging the loose band of Gunter's trousers. A small, breathless snicker blew past his ear when he latched on to a lobe, nipping it with his teeth and running over it with his tongue. He felt the slender demon wriggling beneath him and chanced a glance down to find Gunter, legs bent and pressed together, lifting his knees and thighs up in the air to aid Gwendal in removing his lower garment.

Gwendal scooted down the bed to smoothly peel the white trousers off of white, unblemished legs. He tossed the garment somewhere past the bedside, taking a moment to drink in the sight of those beautiful pale limbs, often so completely hidden from view, laid bare to him tonight. The back of his hand looked comparatively dark next to Gunter's thigh. He leaned over the bed toward the dresser, rummaging around the drawers for that small bottle of scented oil he'd spotted when he inspected the room upon their arrival.

Bottle in hand, he drew back in time to find that last slim piece of lavender underwear being untied and tugged off from the older demon's waist. Gunter was beautifully flushed but barely hard, his shaft hardly extended and rising from its nest of fine hair. Well, Gwendal thought, he'd soon fix that.

He settled between Gunter's legs, nudging the older demon's knees apart with his own. He laid the bottle nearby on the bed and bent forward to capture Gunter's lips in a fierce, deep kiss. His tongue slipped past with no resistance, Gunter's lips already open and ready for him, feeling the slow moan of pleasure from his partner reverberate through their connected mouths.

He felt Gunter's arms stroke up and down his back, exploring just as much as he was letting his own roam the pale man's shirt-clad torso. The fierce kiss was quickly stealing their breaths, but he didn't relent, chasing after it whenever Gunter broke away to desperately draw in some air, forcing his face back with his hand and sealing their lips together again. Never letting the older demon take more than one or two breaths between moments when he was plundering his mouth. He arranged his lower half on the bed to lie just so -- yanking his trousers lower so his naked groin met Gunter's. The high, breathless moans that echoed into his mouth from the contact was as deeply gratifying as feeling that flushed length harden and rise beneath him.

They frotted against each other for a good few minutes, the friction of smooth skin against the rougher material of his clothes feeling utterly delicious. Gunter seemed to have genuine difficulty breathing after a while and he eased up on the kisses, letting the older demon take deep, filling breaths while Gwendal mouthed his cheek and licked the corner of his lips.

"Turn around," Gwendal ordered after giving one last, delicious thrust against Gunter's length. He drew back and grabbed the bottle of oil and two plump pillows from beside them, then helped Gunter arrange himself the way he wanted -- upper half bent over and resting on folded arms, lower half propped up with pillows, legs and knees spread wide on the mattress, giving Gwendal an unhindered, enjoyable view of Gunter's rear and groin. He liberally slathered some oil on the palm of his right hand (a musky sort of cinnamon scent, he noticed, but it will have to do) and squeezed it between Gunter's pelvis and the pillow underneath, ignoring the questioning look the older demon threw over his shoulder. He slid his palm, slick with oil, across Gunter's length, pulling it farther backward and tucking it more comfortably against the now oil-slicked surface of the pillow, nestled between his sac and the plump cushion. The tip of his shaft now peeked from above the white covering, fully hard and leaking a drop of clear fluid.

Gwendal had only been taught this position once, with a fellow student at the military academy. He hadn't had occasion to try it again since, merely enjoying brief and unimaginative encounters with other people from that point on. But with prim-and-proper Gunter willingly spread like this, thighs shaking with the effort to remain bent, loins shamelessly rubbing against the pillow, he was more than glad he'd waited for a better partner.

He dipped his fingers back into the oil, lifting his hand a few times to let the excess dribble off. He placed his other hand on one cheek, squeezing and fondling it, before giving it a light slap (and oh, did Gunter love that -- the small yelp that elicited didn't go about unnoticed). He pressed the hard edge of his palm against the soft mound and began to spread it, fully exposing the pink, puckered entrance he was seeking.

With his middle finger liberally coated in oil, he began to slowly slide it into that resisting passage. It was a bit tighter than he was expecting despite the position, but after a while of teasing and pushing, his middle finger sank fully past the second knuckle. Gwendal's ears were tuned into Gunter's every breath, catching the little hitches as he moved his finger in and out, trying to find more comfortable angles to keep the pleasure alive. Soon after, he slipped in his second oil-slicked finger to join the first and began just pumping them in and out. Gunter seemed to tense with the second invasion, but after a minute of the repetitive motions, his breathing eased back and his thighs lost some of their tension.

Gwendal dipped his head to lick and nip on a milky-white thigh, occasionally moving upward to mouth open kisses on one cheek. He watched his own fingers sink in and pull out of that clinging opening, noticing once again the contrast in their skin tones and finding it oddly exotic. He began scissoring his fingers within, trying to relax and widen the passage as best he could. The opening in Gunter's glans was copiously leaking precum, a thin string of it connecting one droplet hanging inches above the mattress. He drew his fingers out and swiped the liquid with his fingertips, before feeding it back into Gunter's hole with the addition of a third finger.

Those pale thighs strained and tensed again as he nudged and forced his ring finger into the narrow opening. Gunter wasn't able to keep the pained groan to himself this time, the small noise making Gwendal slow his pace and return to just two fingers scissoring and pumping in and out. His other hand calmly stroked one tense leg, feeling the tremor in them subside as Gunter tried to calm down.

"Ready?" he asked.

The thighs in front of him moved a bit as Gunter tried to widen his legs more. "Yes," came the breathy response. Gwendal began to feed his third finger back into the now more-amiable hole. The thighs tensed back up, though, and it became hard to go past the first knuckle.

He stroked Gunter's sweaty lower back, urging the pale demon to calm down. As soon as he felt some of the tension vanish, he steadily pushed in his three fingers. It went in more smoothly this time. "So beautiful," he murmured, making small, rotating motions with his hands while he pumped it in and out.

"This..." Gunter began, swallowing a low moan when Gwendal's fingers sank back in at an angle, "feels so good."

A frission of dread crept up Gwendal's spine. "Has no one ever prepared you before?"

"Some have, but not like this." Gwendal arched his fingers forward a bit on a downward stroke, and he felt the walls of Gunter's passage contract. "I...gods, not like this. It would often hurt at first. And some would continue even after I was crying from the pain."

Gwendal couldn't find a suitable reply to that, so he merely continued his ministrations. He let the thumb of his unoccupied hand graze the underside of Gunter's leaking glans a few times, circling the opening and then stroking the rim. He wished he could dredge up some righteous indignation, but he could understand all too well. Pained cries can sometimes add fuel in the heat of passion.

He took his time with his three fingers, feeling the passage gradually loosen and relax under his touch. He heard Gunter breathe a very needy "Gwendal" just as he wondered if it was time. He slowly withdrew his fingers -- having managed to sink all three of them to the root -- and kissed one flushed cheek before straightening and grabbing the half-empty bottle of oil.

He mulled over removing his clothes, but didn't really want to be bothered with them. He did slide Gunter's shirt farther up his torso, though -- revealing more of that pale back to his sight, letting the material pool under his arms. With a few steady strokes, he covered his entire length with the slick cinnamon-scented liquid, his own shaft fully erect, leaking, and eager for the widened passage. He dribbled more oil into Gunter's loosened opening, just in case, then knelt behind the older demon, lining up the head of his cock at the entrance.

Such a gorgeous sight, he thought, letting the head teasingly push against the opening and draw back out without penetrating. But an unbidden thought rose, that of Lord Asad von Radford and perhaps a few others having enjoyed exactly this just a few months prior. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but -- and Gwendal would never admit this on pain of death -- the images weren't completely unwelcome at this moment.

The teasing was driving Gunter insane. He called out an indignant "Gwendal!" when the older demon pushed back and Gwendal just kept his head pressed snugly at the entrance. He chuckled low in his throat and braced both hands on each cheek, spreading them wide. Slowly and steadily, he began to push in.

Gunter's thighs strained and tried to spread themselves wider as Gwendal steadily and relentlessly sank into the hot, tight passage. A low, keening moan escaped Gunter's throat -- Gwendal couldn't tell whether it was of pain or pleasure. When more than half of his shaft was in that glorious heat, he drew a few centimeters back, braced himself, then roughly sank the rest of the way in.

Gunter's scream felt like it had been driven out of him by that thrust. Gwendal's cock sank into the root, his pelvis flush tight against the other demon's rear, his scrotum settled against Gunter's own sac and grazing the tip of his cock. The impossibly tight furnace surrounding him was contracting and milking him while Gunter tried to adjust to his girth. He waited as best he could, trying not to move his groin, stroking placating circles around the pale demon's lower back and kneading handfuls of his rear.

The small spasms around his cock eased slowly as the older demon adjusted. Gunter's breathing remained fast, however -- the harsh pants loud in the otherwise quiet room. Gwendal felt his sweat slide down his neck, arms, and lower back, the strain of trying to stay his excitement making his own muscles tremble.

Gunter was still trying to control his breathing, but Gwendal felt the passage loosen enough around his cock. He braced a hand against Gunter's lower back and took an experimental pull, slowly taking out a third of his shaft's length, then feeding it steadily back in. Gunter's breathing quickened again, but Gwendal could sense no other signs of distress. He pulled back again, pushed in. Slowly at first, then gaining momentum, his eyes never leaving that taut back and sweaty neck. He changed angles a few times, searching for that spot...

Gunter's head shot up and a high, keening wail left his throat when Gwendal hit that elusive area on a downstroke. He paused for a few seconds, letting the advisor catch his breath, before steadily thrusting in and out in that same angle, reveling in the loud, breathless little "ah"s each push generated from Gunter's mouth. He felt wetness between his thighs and knew Gunter was close, his glans heavily leaking precum on the pillow.

His own excitement was still minutes away, having already been sated earlier. Now would be about Gunter's pleasure, then he would take his again. He kneaded and stroked those flushed cheeks, a palm on each. As he began thrusting faster and rougher, pressing Gunter's groin harder against the slicked surface of the pillow beneath him, he laid a few open-handed slaps on Gunter's right cheek, feeling the body beneath him buck and push back more desperately with the added sensation.

"A-ah! Shinou!" Gunter yelled, his toes curling and legs spreading wide as he pressed heavily down on the pillow and rode out his climax with little breath. Hot liquid shot from between his thighs, landing in messy strings across the mattress and the younger demon's inner legs. Gwendal groaned and cursed as the walls tightened desperately around his cock, milking it, making it harder to keep his own climax at a distance. He kept his strokes short and swift, making sure to press almost constantly against that little nub inside Gunter's body, trying to extend the older demon's climax. Gunter was loud. He'd never had a partner this openly vocal about his own pleasure before, and Gwendal found he quite appreciated it.

The high cries slowly subsided even as Gwendal continued thrusting into that warm heat, albeit a bit more slowly while Gunter came down from his high. Gunter's body lost every bit of support it had, his upper body collapsing forward, his lower half merely remaining upright from the stacked pillows beneath. Gwendal chuckled under his breath. Definitely good for his ego.

After a few moments of waiting and steady thrusts, he felt his own excitement gathering in his groin. He paused in his thrusting to lay himself forward, his taller form at an advantage in this angle, and pressed his chest against Gunter's sweaty back, his head coming up close to Gunter's neck and shoulder. Gwendal whispered a soft, "Magnificent" against Gunter's ear, before nibbling on the skin in reach. His hands crept up the older demon's body, groping, seeking out the tiny nubs of his nipples and teasing and twisting them beneath his shirt.

Gunter moaned and wiggled beneath him, pressing his rear upward in an invitation to continue. Gwendal needed no further prompting -- he resumed his thrusts, this time in a more brutal pace. He could see part of Gunter's expression from this position -- eyes shut tight, brows drawn together. Sweat covered most of the older demon's face and body.

He kept pushing at that angle he knew drove Gunter insane, causing him to reluctantly moan with renewed interest. Gwendal could hear the harsh slap of his sac against Gunter's groin, the slick slide and suction of his cock into Gunter's passage. The obscene sounds joined the loud creaking of the bed and their harsh, impassioned breaths.

He wondered, briefly, if Gunter had been anything like this with the others. Had he struggled? Had he participated? Was he ever with Stoffel? Did Raven partake, or did he secretly observe from a distance?

Suddenly, he felt fingers grabbing at his hand busily tweaking a tight nipple. Gunter held their hands tight -- his right and Gwendal's -- entwining their fingers in a painful grip. Gwendal could hear muttering under his breath, and just as he was about to ask what he was doing, he felt an indescribable pull from within his magical core. Heat suffused his entire body and seemed to get suctioned off into Gunter's. He felt his maryoku rising alongside his passion and passing into the older demon he was thrusting into.

Gwendal realized what it was through the haze of his passion and the indescribable mixing of elemental energies. He'd heard of this, the feeding of excess energy into another elemental-wielding demon as a means of stabilizing conditions, but he'd never seen it in practice before. Never felt anything even remotely close to this before. The energy feeding heightened his passion, and he continued his assault of Gunter's body more fiercely, the slap of skin meeting skin sounding like thunderclap in his ears as he raced toward that inevitable end.

The chaotic swirl of drawn out energy and their impassioned rutting dislodged the pillows supporting Gunter's lower half. He struggled to raise himself on his knees, but Gwendal hurriedly pushed his torso back down, settling himself on top of the slender demon instead, pressing Gunter hard against the mattress and under his own clad form. Gunter's hands clenched desperately at the sheets, sweat pouring from his brows as he concentrated on the reception of energy on top of Gwendal's assault, the emotional feedback in the link that followed causing his own arousal to rise again.

Gwendal could barely think -- he felt like a creature devoid of any other purpose but to dominate and possess, and if this was Gunter's idea of relaxing, then it was rather screwed up. He bit the shoulder closest to him and gripped the other demon's waist, their right hands still entwined. He felt their mutual climax approaching and he quickened his pace, diving deeper and harder into that slick, ravaged heat, feeling the pull on his core expand even further.

He growled and shot his seed deep into Gunter's body, his full, unrelenting thrusts causing some of the liquid to squeeze messily out in loud, lewd spurts. Gunter's body tensed impossibly tight beneath him -- constricting around his cock, making him moan louder -- and the older demon's broken, high-pitched screams filled the room as they both met the full blast of their climaxes.

Gunter's loud scream struck Gwendal with the sudden memory that his room was flanked with two others that housed Blood Pledge Castle soldiers. He didn't even pause in his grinding against the writhing demon -- soldiers talked, yes. But this was one rumor he didn't mind getting out of hand.

He could barely make out the muffled "Fu--fuck! Aah! Gwendal...!" from the other demon's screams and cries. Just as he thought the burst of pleasure couldn't get any more intense, he felt energy being fed back to him from beneath, the pleasure from that lengthening his own climax, and from the feel of it, Gunter's as well. They writhed and ground against each other for minutes, Gwendal trying to stifle his groans by biting Gunter's shoulder. Gunter was grasping fistfuls of the coverlet, his own muffled yelps barely drowned out by the mattress.

The pleasure was slow to ebb, but when it finally did, Gwendal found he couldn't move a single limb. Lying on top of the slender wizard, still buried to the hilt, with their mixed seeds gluing them together suddenly felt like the most comfortable position in the world. Exhaustion bore down heavily on his mind, carrying him off to the most restful sleep he'd had in years.

When he awoke, he found himself lying on one side of the bed, the off-gray color of daylight threatening to creep through the open window. He turned his head to check the other side of the bed, relieved when he saw Gunter's still half-clothed form lying there and watching him.

He was a little disgruntled to note the amused expression on the older demon's face. He decided to let it go, the pleasant ache in his flesh a firm reminder of what exactly it was he should be grateful for. "How do you feel?" Gunter gently asked him. The advisor's eyes were heavy-lidded, looking close to drifting back to sleep.

"Boneless," Gwendal languidly replied. And he did, the deep ache in his muscles pleasant without a single trace of pain. The worries of the future suddenly felt like a distant, manageable thing.

Gunter smiled. "Me too," he said, and released a deep sigh. "It's...a rather intense way of releasing pent-up energy and emotions. And it only ever works for the more powerful of our lot. Rather dangerous, actually." He chanced a guilty glance in Gwendal's direction. "I hope it wasn't too much."

"I think," Gwendal said, his voice introspective, "it's exactly what I needed." He raised an eyebrow at the older demon. "What of you? How do you feel, after that?"

"I feel," Gunter began, the edges of his lips lifting playfully, "like preaching chastity and peace and camping out at the peace-loving von Wincotts and begging them to adopt me."

"Chastity, you say?" Gwendal carefully grazed his fingertips on the hand-shaped bruise already forming on Gunter's hip.

"Well." Gunter laughed, capturing Gwendal's wandering hand and bringing it to his lips. "Maybe not chastity."

Fin.

~~~

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