hardbargain | Bloodlines fall. Lost it all. The pain of severing the bond we had

The majority of the kids... You got many children that can tap into that?

[He takes another swig even as he asks it, cocking a brow both at the question and this whole "speaking of" trailing off thing. Speaking of what Izunia?]

...I might have adopted one, but also it wouldn't surprise me if one of them could just get into the cupboard with magic somehow.

[Kids and magic, magic and kids, a troublesome combination.

For now, Izunia extends a hand.]

Worthy once is worthy again - I don't take that back. My power is yours, if you want it - only string is "don't murder my brother with it" and that only applies to the one that's human again.

Magics clashing? [Not that unexpected after the chaos he'd seen with Strange.

But then Izunia is reaching a hand out to him and for a moment all Nyx can do is stare at it, startled and instinctively mistrusting.]

Mmmhmm... and what's the price this time? Like hell I think you're gonna offer it up freely after-

[Well he just gestures vaguely at his left side, all the scars and magic burns that still mar everything from the silver streak at his hairline to the mangled ashy skin of his arm.]

[The kiss is hard and demanding and so much teeth and everything he wants. But then Regis sinks his fingers in deeper and Nyx has to break the kiss to gasp out a sharp cry, bucking up briefly before pushing himself back on Regis' fingers.]

Vilg oac, muja.

[The words moaned into Regis' mouth, his grasp on Lucian slipping away under the onslaught of pleasure. Nyx tries to kiss him again, catches his lips, nips sharply once and then breaks away to whimper, a high needy keening on each exhale.]

Y-yeah... fuck Reg gonna fucking make me come before we even get there.

[More needy sloppy kisses even as he writhes on Regis' fingers, desperate for more but also unwilling to really pause.]

No price.

[Firm and unyielding as stone, the voice of the king.]

Though if you're hellbent on paying for it, I can always use another friend who isn't afraid to tell me to pull my head out of my ass.

[Friends - not king and vassal, soldier and commander. Just two people who have each other's backs.]

I've got plenty. [he sure the fuck does]

But perhaps this is a reason you were intended to be my mentor. A learning experience for the both of us. I find out if I've got this ethereal got-it-or-don't quality you seek in Glaives, and I, in turn, teach you a little something of patience, hm?

...Not- [With quickly dropped eyes and a humbled little bow of his head.] -that I would presume to teach a renowned member of the Kingsglaive anything he does not already need to know.

[Earlier in the night there is no doubt a joke about the recovery period of young men would have followed that statement, but it's not a joke that comes to Regis' lips now. Instead, it's a desperately relieved sigh caused by the rest of his control finally slipping away. So many of his early memories are of his father drilling into his head how important always keeping control was. Even when he hit his teens and began rebelling in his own way, the control was never far away, a shadow constantly lingering over him waiting to assert itself again.

Perhaps that is why the fire leaps so high in that moment, shattering away any of the shadow that dares remain. There will be soot to clean from the mantle and grate tomorrow, but nothing flammable the flames lick at actually catches. The same holds true for the thin decorative candles that are scattered throughout the room. They burst into flame so hot most snap at the middle, wax and ash all that is left by the time they hit the carpet.

Regis doesn't acknowledge the flame around them, groaning lowly into Nyx's mouth even as he brings the hand he's using to stroke them upward with more pressure than before, ending with a sharp twist and then pulling away. If what's left of his shirt wasn't ruined before, the fact he drags his fingers over it to dry them before he takes a firm grip on Nyx's hip, seals its fate. Regis' other hand meets the Glaive's backward motion once more before he pulls away, repeating the actions he just finished with his previous hand so his grip doesn't slip when he adjusts their position.

The whole time, Regis' lips don't move far from Nyx's, the words whispered against them no order, but a soft needy plea.]

Do not deny me.

Never

[The answer comes without any thought or consideration, driven only by need. So many pieces of Regis' surrender push him so close to the edge. The shift of his grip, the surge of the fire, the desperation in those words. It's all enough to have Nyx panting into his mouth, lips hovering above his Kings'. The near contact has sparks tingling and jumping between them, quieting with each kiss and firing back to life with each gasp, every millimeter between them charged with lightning.

Nyx would never dream of denying his king anything, especially not now, not like this, not with Regis' hands firm on his hips. It takes a fleeting moment of shifting, raising himself a little further up Regis' body, whimpering at the promising heat of him as he adjust the angle just so.

When he finally sinks back on him, nails dragging sharply over Regis shoulders as he throws his head back, arching and crying out, it's not fire that bursts in the room but lightning. The sharp crackle of it lighting the room up briefly, flashing through the air as surely as it does across Nyx's nerve endings.

It's almost too much, though it's no one's fault but his own, using the leverage of Regis' shoulder to drive himself down on one swift, smooth stroke, burying the other man inside him and he nearly loses himself right then and there.

So much for Galahdian stamina.]

[He sure the fuck does.

Nyx starts out smirking and then laughs, low and throaty, grinning at Ignis.]

Oh cut the bullshit, Scientia. We're not in a council chamber. If you're gonna talk shit do it and don't apologize for it.

Ah. So it's fine for me to suggest that you're impulsive, brash, impatient, and some of your acts of defiance come off as immature and as a desperate need to prove yourself despite your status?

[Two can smirk in this game.]

And not, then, apologize for such remarks? Truly remarkable, I'd say.

Why apologize for the truth?

[He grins and this time he finally stands, moves closer to Ignis' space. One brow cocks and he tilts his head with a shrug. ]

Think what you want, not gonna argue most of it.

But I don't have to prove shit to anyone.

[He never asked for the title of "hero" and if you don't hear the derision in that when even his friends use it then Ignis you're not as good at politicking as he thought.]

[The only movement Ignis does is to turn fully around. Back grazing the beam behind him but by no means slouching. Heavens forbid.]

No. I suppose you don't. And yet-- [He raises a hand as if to indicate...himself, or more generally, people like him.] Lucians. Givimg you a new home, but always looking down their noses at you.

[That's less personal observation of Nyx himself and more the general countenance of those given refuge under the Wall. Grumblings at the market, frustrated tones sitting outside cafes. He raises his own challenging brow.] There's always someone to prove yourself to.

Not sayin I like it but I'm not going to let every pissy vendor get me riled up.

[He's not Libertus. He wears his tatts and his braids with pride, he keeps his altar and swears by the Serpent. That's enough for him.]

Good enough for the King, the rest of 'em can fuck off.

I can see why His Majesty likes you so much. Even if, at times, you may induce a headache. [An easy smile. Or at least easy as far as Ignis' guarded nature allows.] And I can fully see why you get the respect from you fellow officers. Perhaps this little matchup wasn't a mistake after all.

[It's not just one voice that rises to twine with the crack of lightning, but two, and in that moment the world shifts, slides together in a way that leaves Regis unable to tell where one sensation starts and another ends. After so many years of numbed feelings, it's like all his nerves have been blasted open again. Heat and tightness becomes one with the pressure of air so thick with magic that it creates its own breeze, lifting, falling, spinning around them creating the very storm whose eye they had rested in not long ago.

Regis both feels and doesn't feel it as his nails sink into Nyx's hips before he drags them up along the Glaive's sides and then across his shoulder blades, fingers finally stopping as they fold over his shoulders and draw him down close enough for their lips to meet again, coming together just as their body's have.

A sharp nip to Nyx's lower lip, a low rumbled groan breathed into his mouth, and then Regis rocks up into the body above him encouraging the Glaive to move.]

[The drag of nails up his body, sharp and biting, has the Glaive writhing atop his King, breath hitching and stuttering out, body wound tense at the continuous sting. When Regis' hands finally settle at his shoulders it's all he can do to keep himself upright for another moment. The kiss he's drawn into is sloppy at best, breathless and shuddering as he is, unsteady and slumping against the other man.

The bite of teeth at his lip makes him gasp again, harder this time and his own nails bite into Regis' shoulder in retaliation. There's so much, magic a tingling pulse over his skin, the heat of his King inside him, the way his welted flesh burns hotter for the spark of magic on the air. He can hardly catch his breath under the surge of sensation and then Regis moves beneath him and he cries out again, softer this time for his breathlessness.

But there's no denying the intent behind that motion and Nyx grits his teeth, bearing down on his lover, grinding himself against him,savoring the feel of him, so full within him. Then he lets out a slow, steadying breath, finally opening eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to stare down at his King. The first shift is subtle, slow and careful, testing the strength of his body, already trembling with pleasure.

Each movement becomes more confident, though, building into a steady, rolling pace, riding out the natural swells of the magic around them. ]

[There's something grounding in how Nyx's slumps into him. Not that it lessens the sensations running through Regis, but it anchors them within the two of them again, separating the feelings from the wild magic that spins around them. The nails that dig into his shoulders act as another anchor and he leans up into them, chasing the sensation until a different one draws his attention away.

Nyx is trembling under his hands. Regis is sure he's doing the same, but he can't tell for certain because he's too caught up being lost in that simple reaction. The shiver of muscle and shift of skin holds his full attention until his Glaive bears down and finally starts moving, then Regis' eyes find Nyx's and hold them, watching how the color and focus changes as he creates the rhythm between them.

At some point Regis begins whispering breathless words of encouragement, praise, and more than a few colorful curses that Nyx will likely be surprised to be hearing once his mind returns enough to think on such things. The words are another grounding method as the rolling pace that has been set blends and overlaps with the magic once more.

Between the words, he turns litters Nyx's neck with kisses and bites, one hand eventually slipping between them to return its attentions to the Glaive's dripping cock.]

[Green eyes catch silver and Nyx is transfixed, focus sliding in and out with each breath, each flex of muscle and shift of his hips but never looking away. For a long moment he doesn't even blink, watching his King with breathless wonder, shuddering at the murmured words even though he hardly registers what the other man is saying. It doesn't matter, just the rich cadence of his voice is enough to send shivers up his spine.

And then Regis leans in to mouth at his neck and Nyx throws his head back, eyes slamming shut and fingers tightening against broad shoulders. A sharp curse escapes him, his rhythm stuttering briefly. He manages to keep himself steady despite how inconsistent his movements become. At least until Regis' hand moves to curl around him again.

A choked cry of his lovers name, nails scraping hard over one shoulder before his hand lifts to slam against the arched back of the chair to keep him from collapsing entirely, and Regis barely gets a full stroke in before Nyx is spilling over his fingers. Rocking down hard on the other man, just savoring the feel of him deep enough to drive the breath from him even as the air burns hot with the crackle of electricity, thick like a storm cloud that stifles either of them from drawing in a deep breath anyway.

Nyx blinks, slowly, drunkenly down at Regis, slides his fingers over the bright weals left by his nails. His lips quirk up in a giddy little smirk and then his breath rushes out once more as he grips the top of the chair for leverage to work himself down against Regis once more, able to focus a little better on his King's reactions now he's not so caught up chasing his own pleasure. Still shuddering and sensitive but enjoying every moment of it if the languid roll of his hips is anything to go by.]

[It's almost impossible for Regis to keep himself from just letting go and following Nyx into release. Between the way his Glaive's body tightens around him, to the warmth that spills over his fingers, from the sting of nails on his skin to the sound of his name on Nyx's lips, all of it pulls him to teeter on the edge, but he knows if he goes over he will miss the very thing he chases even harder than he chases his own release.

For reasons he's never been able to properly explain to himself, Regis has always needed to see that moment of complete release as it passes over his lover's face. The reactions of the body have never been enough. He's always sought that one last piece.

And this, if he had missed this, Regis would never have forgiven himself.

It's almost as if Nyx takes flight. Despite normally being so guarded, he opens up completely and soars free of all the things the world has thrown at him to bind him to the earth. Even when he starts to come down, he still seems to float, his attachment to the ground tenuous at best despite the fact their bodies are still intertwined and moving slowly together.

Regis moves then hand not still slowly working over Nyx's cock so he can brush his fingers across his lover's cheek.]

So beautiful.

[Floating is a good word for it. That distant, hazy pleasure that leaves his mind muddled and his body loose and languid. He hums softly, letting sensations rush over him. The praise earns a smirk and Nyx lets his head loll to the side, lips catching at Regis' wrist, then the heel of his hand, skimming over his palm, tongue flicking at the delicate skin between his fingers. He laughs, rich and pleased, nips at the meat of his thumb and then smirks at his King once more.

His other hand reaches up to join the first, gripping the back of the chair and giving him an anchor point as he begins to move in earnest over the older man. The slow, languid movements shift to something a little faster, a little more determined, body clenching tight and then rolling his hips in a smooth elegant arch that starts low and curls all the way up to his ribs. Something he'd learned as part of traditional Galahdian dance but that makes him shift delightfully on his King's cock.

Another hazy chuckle, pleased and eager as he begins the rhythm, something quick and steady, a teasing roll of his hips that seems to vary to a song only he can hear.]

Regis~

[Soft and coaxing, something hopeful in his tone. He wants nothing more than to feel his King fall apart as well.]

[For all that Nyx is floating, Regis is very grounded, walking an edge and knowing he will soon be falling. He looks forward to the fall--anticipation to make the moment better. Each lick and nip to his hand raising the edge higher, each clench and roll building to make the fall longer. It's hearing his name in that voice and in that tone, the hope and then invitation that come along with it that finally causes him to lose the edge. Regis cries out, thrusting up to meet Nyx, free hand finding purchase on the Glaive's arm and holding tight as he falls.

There have been times--increasing over the years--where Regis feels far too keenly that he is falling--losing himself to the magic of the Crystal--but the loss that comes with this fall, this erasure of everything in heat and light, is freeing not frightening. His body shudders with how strongly it needs that moment of nothing, for how hard it struggles to hold on for a little longer, for how it gradually releases that hold and lets his mind slowly slide back into reality.

It's not his own body he feels first, but Nyx's still moving slowly over him. Regis releases the tight grip he has on the Glaive's arm, slightly trembling fingers running over marks he knows vaguely, in the back of his mind, will be bruises in the morning. A few more to add to the collection.

A soft, contented sound slips from his lips and he finally opens eyes he has no idea when he closed, hazy green searching out silvered blue. When he finds them, he leans forward to press a gentle kiss against the lips not far below, speaking softly, once he pulls away, two simple words.]

Thank you.

[Nyx gasps as Regis cries out, sinks down on him and whimpers at the spill of warmth inside of him. If there's meant to be any words in the small sounds he makes they don't quite make it out. He lets himself fall forward, settling heavily on Regis' lap in the moment, pleased and content.

His own gaze is unfocused, blinking in surprise at that kiss, leaning into it and humming softly. But the words that follow draw a quizzical little noise from him.]

Wha- [A slight cough, his throat raw and dry from gasping breaths and cursing, the metallic tang of the charged air on his tongue. The motion makes him shift in Regis' lap and he whines when his King slides free of his body and cum begins to drip down his thigh. There's something both satisfying about it and disappointing at the emptiness that follows.]

What're you thanking me for? [Softer this time, nearly a whisper.]

[A soft hum is the only answer Nyx gets at first, Regis' hand sliding into the Glaive's hair, cupping the back of his head in an effort to keep him close.]

Did I warn you I am terribly sappy after sex? You're going to laugh at me.

[The words are barely a murmur, almost lost as Regis leaves a trail of gentle kisses along Nyx's jaw and down his neck. He's sappy and also a cuddler and no one would blame Nyx if he begins to think that Regis may be using the latter of that pair of things to distract him from the answer to the question. Eventually, though, Regis does settle his head against his Glaive's shoulder with a soft sigh and softer words.]

Do you know how long it's been since I've been able to let everything go even for just a few moments? You've given me such a great gift. Saying 'thank you' is the very least I can give you in return.

[Regis doesn't have to try very hard to keep Nyx close, he has no intention of going anywhere. He's quiet for a long moment, curled up in Regis' lap, head resting against the kin's shoulder even as Regis does the same. A soft, contented sigh at the feel of fingers toying with his hair and eventually Nyx speaks, low and lazy, lips brushing against Regis' neck as he does.]

Not gonna laugh... 'm glad you let me help. [A gentle nudge, a light kiss, a moment to shimmy himself a tiny bit closer]

's all I wanted, pamujat.

[Nyx's response causes a tired, but content smile to cross Regis' face. Already, there is a particularly persistent part of his mind that is attempting to slip back into the 'whys' and 'what ifs' of this whole thing, something Regis is nowhere near ready to get back to, so with all the practice he's had at locking away certain thoughts, he locks those away now. If he must linger on all those little worries more, then he will do it later when he is not so warm and content under Nyx's body.]

You owe me a new chair now, you realize.

[There's mischief in the half-lidded look Regis turns at Nyx then.]

There is no way I'm going to be able to nap in this one anymore.

Bloodlines fall. Lost it all. The pain of severing the bond we had

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