Dragon Age - OTA

[spaceswan]

Who: A Guardian named Macklemore Journey, the Illustrious Uldren Sov and OTA
What: Surviving in a foreign land, surviving technology loss.
When: After Origins, before Inquisition
Where: Just outside of Orlais.
Warnings: Possible smut, will be marked as necessary.



"PULL BACK OR WE'LL GO RIGHT IN!"

Probably famous last words or something. After the little diatribe from The Guide (why did so many figures in his life go by titles instead of legitimate names? The Speaker, The Queen, Ghost...) Mac was at least comforted by the knowledge that he wasn't dead and they didn't get crushed into tiny particles by a black hole. Instead of a sudden spatial anomaly it was, evidently, some sort of wormhole that Uldren - stuck up idiot - plowed their ship through. All the fuss over not being allowed to pilot the ship and now they were stuck somewhere without said ship.

Marvelous.

"I'm not taking the blame this time. Oh no. No no no, this time, this time, it was all you!" Mac seethed, bristling briefly before fizzling out. He didn't have the capacity for real anger lasting more than a few moments. Generally he left it up to Uldren to be the irate one. After he was assigned as escort to the high and mighty Prince, things got weird. Then they got heated and now? Well...

Glancing over at the assassin, Mac wondered if Uldren was trained for survival or just all show. They'd never been stranded before. Stuck at outposts on occasion, but never legitimately without transport. Or weapons, Mac observed ruefully. Of course he just had to set his guns aside to lounge more comfortably in the navigator's seat. What an ass thing to do.

Uldren still wasn't talking. That was never a good thing. If the man wasn't being snarky he was being bitter, but he always had something to say. Puffing a sigh and turning away to check his armor over, Mac did a quick inventory and decided he was probably screwed. At least Ghost was still there...

"Have you ever seen so many trees? And there's no debris anywhere...no rusted out cars, no airplane carcasses. This isn't Earth, that's for damned sure...Oh. My. God. Is that a bear?" Mac asked shrilly, scrambling to Uldren's side and shoving several times to get the man to pay attention. In fact, there was a bear in the distance. And some deer, a collection of birds, a rabbit and an open meadow surrounded on all sides by forest. Mac had landed next to a creek when he tumbled ass over head through the portal - fortunately his head wasn't that susceptible to heavy blows, thick as it was.

"Uldren. ULDREN. Where are we? Ghost where are we?"

"I cannot sense The Traveler's Light. I cannot find The Darkness, either. Scans show no signs of Fallen, Hive or Vex activity...I do not know where we are located...I'm not even sure how we still exist."

Well, that wasn't even a little comforting.

"I'm too pretty do die in some weird mystery woodland. Ghost, find a way home--"

"The Guide was very clear. You will get home by traveling there on your own. I cannot make a way back if I don't know where we are."

"Good for nothing chatty Rubic's Cube," Mac muttered, looking at Uldren fretfully. Hopefully the man really didn't blow up and blame him for this...they were definitely going to need each other if--

"I detect human life forms. The signs are faint and distant. On foot it will take several days to find them. the concentration suggests a city. Shall I chart a course?"

"Yeah! Yes. Yeah do that...chart a course...thing...shit. Days? I've never taken days to get anywhere..." Mac complained to himself, reaching up to tug his helmet off, tucking it under his arm as he inhaled the remarkably fresh air. No Hive? No Fallen or Vex or Crota or any other miserable bullshit breathing down the neck of all that was good? He could tolerate the vacation.

Comments

[princereefcrow]

Uldren was beyond impatient by this point. As much as he wanted to be kind to the elf, now that he'd started and made a decision on just how far he was going to allow things to go, he wasn't in the mood to wait. While Mac and the kid continued to talk things to death, he busied himself with getting the Guardian's clothes off. It would be rather evil of him to strip Mac completely, but he still had all that banked frustration from their previous disagreement that was still eating at him.

The man needed to be punished.

His hands moved with practiced ease over Mac from behind, undoing clasps and buckles and zippers while the man wasted time and breath on trying to convince the elf he was safe. No one was ever really safe, especially with him. As much as he was willing to tone himself down when dealing directly with the elf, all this talking was driving him crazy. At least Mac wasn't fighting him over the clothes, because that would have triggered a very decisive and violent reaction that might well drive the elf off for good. It also bothered him to hear Mac say he didn't like causing his lover pain. Just because he knew the Guardian had issues didn't mean he liked to be reminded of it so blatantly. Of course, when the Guardian told the elf to speak to him directly, Uldren paused, turning his attention back to the cute but hesitant elf, hands caught in Mac's open shirt.

Ilormael just didn't understand. How could Mac be so nice and seem so trustworthy, but say that he welcomed being hurt by the Prince? How was that any kind of love? It wasn't as though most of his people's pairings ever included love, since it was duty that dictated who ended up with whom, but there was usually at least tolerance. If one was lucky, there was at least friendship, or even faint affection, but almost never love. And certainly not of the kind that Mac seemed to be talking about.

He shivered and inched just a tiny bit closer to their side of the fire, equally balanced between fear and need, and tried to ignore the fact that the Prince was trying to strip his lover to the skin rather roughly. Again, Mac made no real effort to protest his treatment; in fact, it was painfully obvious the man enjoyed being used rather like a life-sized doll. Before meeting these two, Ilormael had never even remotely thought of such a forbidden thing, but now that he was confronted with it, he couldn't help wondering if it would feel as good to him to be used that way. Maybe not so hurtfully, but a little roughness . . . Was it just the power the two men had? The fact that they were both so much stronger than he and could literally do whatever they wanted with him was the main reason he still hesitated. Words were not actions, and what was to say that they'd treat him kindly once they had hands on him?

Still, his body at least had made a decision, and it wouldn't be long before it was obvious to his fireside companions. Ilormael chewed his lip as he tried to work up the courage to speak, then his eyes went wide at Mac's suggestion he speak directly to the Prince. His jaw fell open a little as his eyes flew to the face of that intimidating fellow, meeting eyes that actually glowed back at him. He gulped and stared into those golden eyes, an unexpected wave of lust crashing through him and making him tremble. If he didn't know better, he'd think the man had the power to induce that reaction in people!

"D-Don't hurt me!" The words were startled out of him by the intolerable situation and Ilormael flushed painfully, but he continued to meet the Prince's eyes, "I would . . . I would like . . ." He swallowed audibly and closed his eyes, speaking quickly, "I would like to come closer! If . . . If I may?" Ilormael opened his eyes, giving Mac a pleading look, "Perhaps not your threatening master, but maybe we two . . ."

[spaceswan]

All the undressing was so normal to Mac that he didn't realize it was happening until Ilormael's roaming eyes made him aware and self-conscious. He'd tried tugging his robes closed again but Uldren's hands were too clever, yanking and sliding and generally making it pretty impossible to worm away. Not that he cared all that much; between the two of them and the fire he was warm enough and dry enough t tolerate being stripped bare, if Uldren wished it.

However, Mac was started out of his internal debates, struck by the elf's outburst and admittance. Green eyes widened before flicking over his shoulder at the prince, smiling warmly and shrugging.

"He's scared of you," Mac remarked needlessly, chuckling softly even as he blushed a bit, baffled that someone would suggest him as a preference over the Prince. Pretty bold, he thought, and maybe not the most quality decision, but Mac failed to see much value in himself when compared to the company he kept.

"He's asking about he and I. That's up to you, my prince," the Guardian purred, smiling lazily, entirely content now that the elf was in good company and a fine mood and Uldren was fit to get his. Things were turning out better than expected. "I accept any decision you make." And he fully intended to. He expected Uldren to make whatever decision was best and most rewarding for all involved, still able to be diplomatic, even if he wasn't as good at it as his sister. Mac was willing to do just about anything at that point and there was little doubt left for Uldren, who by then knew the Guardian well enough to know when he'd flipped the switch entirely.

[princereefcrow]

Of course he knew what Mac and the elf had been saying and he almost gave himself away. Uldren had his mouth open to snap that he knew the kid was scared of him, but he caught himself just in time. He gave a slight jerk of his head, annoyance still foremost in his mind, but then Mac gave him that look. The frustration melted from his expression as the Guardian smiled and purred at him. He smirked slowly and kissed the man, mouth hungry and demanding as his hands started to tug at Mac's clothes again. For a few moments he forgot about their audience entirely, lost in the pleasure of devouring his lover's mouth with a silent promise to do the same to the rest of him.

When he finally lifted his head, Uldren glanced at the elf, who'd come just a little closer while he and Mac were distracted. The boy froze again when their eyes met, but the mixture of fear and lust in the elf's eyes was more than he could ignore. He sighed and nudged Mac a little, flashing the elf a crooked smile.

"Mac, stop thinking about your dick for a minute and bring the elf over. Look at his eyes. He can't make the last step himself and you're right, I scare him. Reach for him Mac, he needs a hand."

[spaceswan]

"I wasn't thinking about my dick," Mac protested idly, grinning in that infuriatingly cocky way he sometimes had. when he understood what Uldren intended his pink tongue brushed over his lips, green eyes sliding towards Ilormael, who hovered at the edge of their space, conflicted. As much by his own self-interest as Uldren's order, Mac reached out, hand upturned and fingers slightly curled inward.

"Come on. No one should waste an opportunity they may regret wasting," he reasoned, the elf's chest rising and falling rapidly as his hands shook, eyes widening. Ilormael looked like a man trying to ramp himself up before leaping off a cliff. Mac knew personally what that felt like, literally and figuratively, and reached out to cup his hand over one of the elf's. He didn't say anything, just looked and waited, ignoring Uldren for the moment, intent on proving to Ilormael that he wouldn't be ignored in favor of Mac and Uldren's preexisting connection. The elf responded in kind with wary movements, scooting slightly closer until Mac was able to raised his hand and cup to elf's face. He didn't glance back at Uldren, needing the elf to recognize that it wasn't all just a show for the Prince. It was for all of them, equally, if they were taking hose leaps together.

Powder blue lips met the golden-tanned mouth of the elf and for a moment it was stillness, neither one breathing out of fear of one thing or another, their reasons different but the result the same. Ilormael stopped squeezing his eyes closed after a moment, opening them with a confused expression, unsure what was happening, only to find the reason that Mac had stilled was that he was simply waiting for the elf to stop panicking. Their eyes met, briefly, Mac smiled into the kiss and then closed his own eyes, moving his mouth far more sensually against Ilormael's until the elf stopped trembling and attempted to return the kiss.

They stayed like that for a long time, Mac held by Uldren, clothes falling away while the Guardian helped ease the elf closer through the touch of their mouths. Before long Ilormael had crept in and closed the distance without even realizing it, his leatherclad and lightly armored body pressed chest to chest with Mac's, lured closest once Mac started gently running his fingers through the hair at the elf's nape. It was, perhaps, the first time Uldren was able to see what sort of person Mac might have been, had the Prince's tastes run somewhat less aggressive. The Guardian was a naturally gentler and more sensual individual. Good bait, certainly, for the sorts of traps Uldren liked to lay. At the least he was infinitely better at easing a person into something than the Prince was.

[princereefcrow]

He'd known that once he put the idea in Mac's head, it was only a matter of time before the man actually wanted to sleep with the elf. At first it had been mostly a joke, but as time wore on, it had appealed to him more and more. It wasn't as if he had access to innocents on a daily basis, because while Mac might be very naive at times he was never really innocent in most senses, and the elf was rather attractive, if younger than he would usually consider sleeping with. Although he was guilty of a great many crimes against humanity and was truly a monster, he had never raped children and didn't intend to start. But the elf wasn't really a child in anything but years and they could both see that. And Ilormael wanted what they were offering. He might not understand just what he was going to get, but he definitely wanted it, which made a great deal of difference.

Uldren was careful to keep all of his movements slow and non-threatening as Mac coaxed the elf closer, undoing the Guardian's clothes with practiced ease and exposing that very attractive body, but he never once took his eyes off the elf. This time, however, his own weren't in the least threatening, and he was careful to keep a slight smile of his face. And it wasn't the wolf's hungry grin he'd worn earlier; no, it was something much more gentle, if touched by self-mockery. He knew better than anyone that the only people in the universe who would ever look at him with anything but fear were Mac and Mara. It was a shame sometimes, like now, but it was the life he'd chosen and he wouldn't change a thing.

The show itself, once the elf finally came within reach, was more than enough to heat his blood enough so that he could finally forget the cold. Watching Mac seduce someone was a unique pleasure he'd never really thought about experiencing before, though now that he had, they'd have to replicate it. Often. In varied circumstances and with multiple partners. There was something so deliciously wrong about baiting an outsider with Mac's genuine care and then springing him on them after they were in too deep to escape. He wouldn't hurt them of course, that was for Mac alone unless the situation was extraordinary, but he would certainly have his turn eventually and even on his best days, he was never anything less than rough.

Still, those thoughts were for a future that was anything but sure and Uldren turned his attention back to the present, switching his hold on the Guardian to allow the elf to press in close. He trailed his fingers up and down Mac's sides as the two kissed, brushing against the elf now and then as if accidentally, trying to help accustom Ilormael to being touched and to feeling more relaxed. It was amazing the patience that Mac was displaying in luring the boy in. Certainly Uldren had patience for his own games, but he never could have seduced someone like his lover was, it just wasn't in him to be that gentle and restrained. Sitting behind Mac and just watching was barely within his abilities, and his control was quckly running out as his body demanded access to one or both of them. It was heady stuff, watching someone who was completely his essentially "cheat" with someone he also lusted after, but it was still enjoyable for all the frustration it caused.

Ilormael forgot everything when he finally managed to close his eyes and relax against Mac, everything except for the way his body was reacting to those gentle hands and that warm mouth. He didn't really know what to do, or where to put his own hands, but eventually he settled for laying them lightly on Mac's shoulders. It seemed like the best place, since the Prince's hands were moving over the man just about everywhere else. He was grateful for the warmth of Mac's body through his clothes and armor, although he wondered what it would feel like to be pressed skin-to-skin, since the Prince had so considerately opened the man's shirt to expose Mac's chest. He wasn't that comfortable though, not with the Prince still there behind his gentle teacher.

Every time he thought of the other man, the elf tensed for a few moments, despite the distraction that Mac's tongue was providing him. He'd never known you put your tongue into someone's mouth to kiss, but after the initial shock it felt good, and Mac was sweet about showing him what to do with his own actions. As long as he could forget about the Prince he'd be fine, but every now and then a hand that definitely didn't belong to Mac touched him, and it brought his nerves right back to the forefront of his mind. Of course, the hands weren't mean, and what he could feel through his gear was actually rather pleasant, but it scared him to think of being at the mercy of that predator. Surely Mac knew that and would keep the Prince away from him, wouldn't he? The man wouldn't throw Ilormael to the Prince once he was so worked up he couldn't protest . . . would he?

Remembering the worshipful way Mac had looked at the Prince, and the man's own words about their deviant relationship, he really wasn't sure that Mac would protect him if the Prince asked for a turn. That thought made him shudder and moan and press closer to Mac, too deep in their web to escape, but still too scared to fully give himself up to the possible pleasure. Ilormael's hands clenched on Mac's bare shoulders, sharp nails digging into the warm skin as he prayed fervently that he'd survive this foolish indulgence and live to see the dawn. Why had he ever come back to their fire? Was it really worth the consequences to warm himself, even temporarily, at their fucked-up hearth?

[spaceswan]

Were the Guardian a mind-reader he might have had more misgivings about the whole thing. He wasn't completely without his honor and goodness, and if he really believed the elf were against something, Mac would have stood up to Uldren in a heart beat. Love and lust weren't good enough reasons to succumb to absolute darkness. Fortunately for them all, Uldren had more Light in him than he was ready to admit; Mac was pretty positive even the prince would stop himself before truly harming someone that didn't want it. At the end of the day, Mac trusted Uldren.

All those concerns aside, Mac was enjoying himself more than he'd expected! It was a world of difference, playing the submissive, willing participant to the Crow's needs and being the seducer in a more archaic setting. He'd never imagined himself being the one to draw someone to himself in such a way, and he had to account it to Uldren's teachings, really. Mac knew his own inexperience would have made it all a lot more difficult, but the prince's efforts had made him infinitely more confident. At least enough to make the occasional first move, and it paid off.

For his own part, Ilormael was comforted by everything Mac did. Cool fingers touching his face, his throat, warm hands cupping his cheeks and Mac's tongue gently caressing and probing. The Awoken never pushed too much, never tugged or yanked. He coaxed, certainly, but the elf didn't mind being guided closer to the other man, and when he finally fell against Mac's chest, he regretted coming fully dressed. Still, when was a good time to broach the subject of clothing? Was it rude? Should he not be wearing anything? Was that too much too fast? Occasional wary glances at Uldren complicated things. unlike Mac, Ilormael didn't know the first thing about the prince, and trusting him was...difficult. It wasn't until Mac caught one of those glances that the guardian really understood, and he did the only thing he could think to.

"Don't worry," he gasped against the elf's lips after breaking a long, breath-stealing kiss. "We're not going to make you do anything you don't want. I promise. But you have to speak up. You have to tell us..." he murmured in Dalish before turning his head a bit and narrowing his yes at Uldren, expression pure sex at that point.

"I'll do anything you both want," he told the Prince, breath coming in long, hot whispers. A hand reached out, cupping behind Uldren's neck before gripping the hair painfully tight at the base of the man's skull.

"We brought him into this," Mac warned, green eyes hazy with want as he leaned back against Uldren even as he let Ilormael rest against him. "But until he knows what he wants done to him, just use me as an example. If you get jealous, just punish me for it later," the Guardian grinned, craning his neck to run his tongue over Uldren's lips.

"You're the Prince, Uldren. We're the actors, but you need to direct the show. Participate if you like, just don't be a tyrant until he's deep enough that he doesn't want to go back. I can take it. One or two, doesn't matter. There isn't a challenge I can't meet, as long as you're there," he rumbled, letting the prince go and reaching up with both hands to caress Ilormael's jawline before tracing his fingertips up those long ears. He was so gentle, to light, treating them like any other potentially erogenous zone, seeking to arouse and comfort the elf before carefully giving little experimental tugs to the scout's clothes, clearly asking him to either undress himself or let himself be undressed.

Mac was absolutely determined to see them all satisfied, come hell or high water.

[princereefcrow]

Uldren growled and shuddered against Mac when the man tugged on his hair, fingers digging into the man's hips hard enough to leave bruises, if Mac had been able to bruise. He moaned loudly as the Guardian teased his lips with that warm tongue, barely aware that Mac was actually speaking to him, let alone that it was important. He snapped at the man when Mac let go of him again, snarling out his words without realizing it would probably terrify the poor elf.

"Mac! When we're not fucking freezing, your ass is gonna be so damn ruined! You're gonna be chained for a week and I swear to god I'm gonna see if taking a chunk of flesh out of you heals up without a damn scar. I'll use you so fucking much you'll be weeks recovering!"

Ilormael jumped when the Prince growled and then started snarling at Mac, but he was actually too scared to try and run. That and he was so hard he wasn't sure he could run. He'd never been so aroused before, and even though the Prince was scary as hell, Mac wasn't. He bit his lip as as they spoke to each other in their own language, eyes flitting from one to the other, though mostly he watched the Prince. He was the really dangerous one. But then Mac touched his ears.

The elf shivered and moaned, eyes closing against his will as he rocked on the man's lap, clinging to Mac as those hands teased his ears. Ilormael didn't even notice the pulling at his clothes at first, but eventually it penetrated. It was a real effort to open his eyes and give Mac a hazy, pleading look. He didn't know what to ask for, or how to say what he wanted, because he didn't really know what he wanted.

"I . . . please? Touch . . . my ears? Please?"

[spaceswan]

"Oh-ho! Listen at him! Promises promises, my dear Prince!" Mac laughed, barely wincing when the man dug fingers into his skin. Certainly the Guardian could bruise, though only just for a few moments when it happened, and even then, that required far more dire an injury than the grip of a lover.

When Ilormael moaned and squirmed, Mac knew he'd won. The game was hardly played, but he'd already put the elf's Queen in check, and he knew Uldren would catch it, too. Once you found someone someone liked, it was all too easy to use it against them. Not that they didn't all recognize that as their collective goal, once they had decided to invite the elf into their figurative bed.

"Of course," Mac replied graciously. "Anything you want is yours, you know? This isn't about us taking anything. We're all one another's guests in this instance. Generous hosts aiming to be friends. Ask anything and you should have it," he sighed, leaning against Uldren even as he stroked the youth's ears with gentle fingertips.

"His ears," he reported to Uldren, glancing over his shoulder at the other Awoken. "That's the ticket right there. A little finesse...he moves like a serpent."

[princereefcrow]

He merely growled against Mac's nape, trying to keep his face hidden behind the Guardian. Uldren had seen the fear on the boy's face and it hurt him. It was one thing to be feared by his and the Queen's enemies, but seeing that same fear on such a young face, a face that Mac had been kissing . . . It hurt. He wasn't a damn monster after all! Well, actually he was, but he was just as attractive as Mac!

Actually . . . he really wasn't. He was attractive, handsome even, but he hadn't been doing a good job of showing that off to the elf. He was snarling and growling and being violent, not to mention he was the one who'd caught the poor kid to start with. And even though Ghost was translating, it wasn't really the same thing at all to what Mac was doing. Mac was speaking to the elf, in his own language, and seducing the kid with surprising ease. He was . . . jealous. He was definitely jealous, but he was also strangely lonely. He wanted to join in more, but all he did was scare the elf. There was only so much he could do to Mac without just shoving the kid away after all!

Uldren sighed and nipped Mac's spine, his hands sliding up and down the man's sides, "Get him off Mac. Show him how good it feels. All I do is scare him." He dragged his tongue over warm skin, fingers clenching on Mac's hips again as he rubbed against the man's ass. He wasn't made of stone and holding back was killing him, but he'd done this for Mac, in a fucked-up way. He'd like to be a more active participant, but what the hell could he do? Every move he made toward the elf was met with fear! It would just be better for Mac to do everything with the kid.

Ilormael heard the soft words that the Prince spoke, but they still made no sense. That was part of his fear, not knowing what was being said. Was the man instructing Mac to kill him or kiss him? As weird as their relationship seemed to be, he didn't feel all that confident Mac would stand up for him if it really came down to it. His glowing-eyed potential lover was in the Prince's thrall, and if the Prince decided he'd be a good sacrifice . . . Well, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd be more important than what the Prince wanted. And yet, he found himself moaning again as Mac's clever fingers played with his ears. He clung to the man breathing hard, feeling as if he was on fire. How much better would it be if Mac's hands moved lower?

[spaceswan]

"You wouldn't frighten him so much if you weren't always looking around with resting bitchface or growling and sneering," Mac chuckled, reaching back and cupping a hand against Uldren's cheek to draw him in for a gentler, kinder kiss than their usual.

"You're a scary guy, you know? Just ease him into it," the Guardian shrugged, reaching out the other direction and tugging Ilormael closer to whisper to the boy.

"He's upset that he frightened you," he whispered against the elf's ear before tracing the shell with his tongue, breath hot and damp. "He told me to get you off. You know what that means?" he asked, arching a purple brow and smirking faintly as one hand slid down the boy's chest and belly, tickling a gentle path.

"Is that what you want? You can have literally anything right now, however it would please you. He's holding back, you know. Keeping his distance so you don't get upset. He's actually quite marvelous when he isn't grumbling and complaining. He's the best Prince his people could ask for, believe it or not. He just happens to be my lover. Our lover, if you wished it. Tonight is for secret liaisons, Ilormael. You have a Prince's permission to do anything you can imagine. Are you really going to pass up a royal opportunity?" Mac rasped, tracing fingertips along the growing bulge of the elf's cock, shameless in the face of his lover's commands. Shy though Mac was by nature, he could go from zero to sixty at a mere hint of Uldren's desire. Well-trained, really.

[princereefcrow]

Uldren took the kiss, allowing it to be gentle for once. He was capable of a softer side, but it was so hard to remember sometimes, especially when he was so worked up. He had to be a monster in most of his life, and it was hard to remember he was more than that, that he had greater depths to himself. Mac was always so happy to be abused, he didn't need to try very hard to be nice, but the elf . . .

"I don't know how to ease into things Mac. I just march up and take whatever I want, you know that. And I can't talk to him . . ."

He sighed and buried his face against Mac's nape as the foreign language lilted between the two, listening to the translation Ghost provided. He longed to be able to speak with both of them at the same time, and to understand what they said in return, but he wasn't a Guardian. And he was still a monster . . .

The look Ilormael gave Mac was, to the say the least, skeptical. True, at that particular moment the men had shared a much more gentle kiss, one he was actually pretty jealous of, and the Prince hadn't yelled and growled but spoken softly, but still. What was to say that would continue? Mac he could trust to a limited extent, but the Prince? He shivered and clung closer to Mac as the man spoke and teased him, confusing him more than anything else. How could one man be so gentle and kind, while the other was so . . .

The elf gasped and shook with reaction as Mac's hand caressed him, making a sound suspiciously like a whine in response to the question he was asked. He might never have heard it put quite that way, but it was obvious what it meant. But how could he think when Mac was touching him that way? It was so damned unfair!

Ilormael tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, since it sounded important, but it was so hard to ignore that teasing hand and the warm mouth on his ear. He was so hard it hurt, but he couldn't seem to finish on his own. He needed someone else to touch him, he needed Mac!

"I . . . I can't . . . think! It hurts! Mac I . . . I . . ."

He wanted everything and he wanted nothing. He couldn't keep a thought long enough to understand what he really wanted! If only he could have a moment alone, to think! He didn't understand! It was all too much too fast!

[spaceswan]

"Fine then. Like this," Mac grunted, pushing and pulling and writhing about until he'd fought them both off enough to push Uldren away, then push Ilormael between them. He tucked the elf forward enough that he could touch knees with the Prince. Grabbing the other Awoken's hand, he tugged, pressing it down against the boy-elf's thigh and sliding it up slowly, all while elaning over Ilormael's shoulder to nibble at his ear and whisper.

"You're so scared of him, but he doesn't mean you any harm. He brought you here in the first place because I was so excited to see elves. He's rough, but he's a good man. And I'm going to prove that he's much more interested in you and your well-being than you think."

Green eyes flicked up, glowing bright in the shadows of the shelter, the fire making Mac's usually cool blue skin a warm orange hue. He watched Uldren meaningfully, full lips curving into a slow smile of challenge.

"Suck him off," he said, gesturing lightly with the hand that wasn't guiding Uldren's own palm to the elf's stiff member.

"You want to prove you're not a boogeyman and loosen him up, then go down on him. You and I both know you like it, and you're good at it. You taught me, after all," the Warlock pointed out, smirking at his Prince with a positively devilish expression. why not turn the tables around a bit? After all, if everyone got theirs in the end, it was an evening well spent. That, and the more Mac thought about Uldren snarling around Ilormael's cock while the elf squealed or moaned or whatever he was bound to do, the more the Warlock needed to see it.

Maybe Uldren was having a bad influence on him. Maybe it was a good one? All about perspective, really.

[princereefcrow]

Being pushed away was absolutely not in the game plan! Uldren snarled and started to grab at the man, something nasty on his tongue to say, then his eyes went wide. Mac had turned himself and the elf around to face him! He stared at the Guardian, then the elf, then the Guardian again, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. Then he realized his hand was touching the elf and his eyes zeroed in on Mac's hand holding his in place. His mouth watered and a shiver he didn't try to hide ran through him. It wasn't so much touching someone else that excited him as having Mac try to include him for real in the fantasy he'd put into motion. He really hadn't wanted to do that. What they were doing had been for Mac!

The whispering nearly did him in, even in another language. Mac really didn't ever take the lead, which was usually the way they both preferred it, and having the Guardian do it now was just . . . Uldren bit his lip, eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control. If he lost it now they'd all end up injured, though the elf would get the worst of it, and Mac might never be able to forgive him. When Mac spoke to him, his eyes popped back open and he stared at the man, actually holding his breath in shock.

"Mac!?"

Uldren sounded almost prim, completely shocked, and perhaps even a tiny bit worried. He wasn't exactly gentle, as a rule, and while he wasn't usually cruel giving a blowjob, Mac was a hell of a lot sturdier than the tiny elf they currently had trapped between them. What if he hurt the child? It wasn't safe to let him touch the elf! Although he was currently giving the kid a handjob . . .

Ilormael squawked when Mac moved him, fear making his arousal even more sharp and piercing. What the hell was happening now!? And then suddenly he was staring right at the Prince. The elf stared up and up and shrank back against Mac, one of his hands groping for the man's to cling to, but instead, Mac was moving the Prince's hand on him. He made a strangled sound of fear and need, arching into the touch even as he tried to stay away from the terrifying man.

He watched through slitted eyes as the two men talked, and carried on even more silent communication as their joined hands touched him. Ilormael was panting and squirming and desperate for relief, even if it came from the scary Prince, if only they'd let him finish so he could think again! His hands grabbed weakly at Mac's wrist, the one that was already holding the Prince's wrist, making another connection between the three of them. He looked up with desperate eyes, not caring who answered his plea anymore.

"Please!?"