Malcolm

°

“Are you a secret brat, Malcolm?”

I freeze midstep, panic spidering through me like venom before the voice registers.

“From what I tasted, you’re supposed to be in bed when he wakes up, not prancing ’round in an ittty bitty robe.”

Wequie stands at the opposite end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen, leaning haphazardly against the doorframe. He’s at ease, flushed with life and drinking some steaming herbal blend.

He also wears a smile that rivals the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Naughty, naughty,” he murmurs elatedly.

“I am not—” I stop myself short, closing the distance between us first so Aias’ sharp ears stay none the wiser. “I am not prancing around anywhere. I needed something.”

“More than Aias needs his sleeve?” He retorts with a mock gasp.

My face flames so quickly that I stammer on a reply for at least five whole seconds. “You did not taste that!”

“I sure did. An incubi’s sixth sense is very powerful, and you two put it to good use last night,” he murmurs against his cup before granting himself a sip. “You were also quite loud.”

I groan before I remember to nip the sound. Wequie’s smile stretches wider.

“Can’t be loud now?” He asks quietly, head tilting.

I scowl at him but ignore the bait. “Why are you even lurking around so early?”

“I was not lurking,” he retorts with an insulted huff. “I was actually just grabbing a hot drink before hitting the road, and so there I was, in the kitchen, and what do I see? A little brat in hiding tiptoeing across the driveway, and you know I can’t miss a punishment.”

“I’m not going to be punished,” I retort, though I’m already stepping back because, well, there was a chance of it. I had known that when I peeled myself away from Aias. “And I am not a brat.”

Wequie hums, eyes glittering, and for the first time in aeons, I want to poke them out.

“So, what is it that you needed so desperately?” He asks, gaze dropping to my satchel, but I hide it behind my back faster than his eyes can track. His pupils immediately dilate, like a cat on a hunt.

“No,” I say, taking two steps back and then another when he tries to follow. “That is none of your business.”

“What is none of his business?”

I should have sensed him waking up.

Should have heard it or felt it in that place in my chest that always tightened when I thought of him, but for some reason, it had stayed dormant, and now he’s here, and he’s not happy.

I swallow, panic sprouting again, but it briefly foregoes the path it is supposed to take, just as my thoughts do, as my mind stalls on the naked figure exposed to me.

Aias stands in the light like some Greek god of old, only he lives up to the fables of his glory. With his long, blonde hair draped over his shoulders, the ends trailing over the contours of his hips, the strain of his chest that widens with each breath, and dear Gods— the length of his thick cock that hangs limp between his legs.

My mouth immediately salivates, and it takes as much effort to drag my eyes upwards as it does to stop squeezing around the plug in my ass.

“Malcolm.” I jolt, spine stiffening instinctively while Aias tilts his head by a hair.

My lips part only to let air free as Aias closes the space between us in an instant. He invades my space, forcing me back a step until my back kisses the edge of the windowsill that overlooks the outer gardens.

Golden eyes shift between mine, and they are not angry, but the calmness in them is terrifying in a way that makes my stomach churn and my cock buck.

“Why are you out of bed?”

He asks the question softly, not quite a whisper, but as something light enough to quiet all other sounds between us.

“I…” Fingers trail over my hips, rubbing gently before they take a firmer hold. “I was…I needed something from my bags.”

Sharp brows draw inwards, and while his eyes remain glued to mine, strong fingers dip between the folds of my robe to grope me. I shudder, body melting as his hands feel me up without precaution or the slightest care for the fact that we are not alone.

“Something from your bags,” Aias repeats curiously, as if sampling the excuse to figure out whether or not he likes it. “I do not see any bags.”

“They are still—”

“Did you not have a task at hand, pisen?” He asks, and my mind already starts to give, surrendering to the name and possession in it as his hands rise to fondle my chest. He fills his palms with them. “A task you begged for last night?”

“Yes,” I pant, breaths loosening when he tugs at my nipples. My cock bucks with each tortured pull while Aias just keeps gazing at me as though we are discussing the weather. “B-But—”

“But?” He cuts in again, brow rising higher. “There should be no ‘but’, Malcolm. You were supposed to be warming my cock.”

Everything is suddenly too hot.

The hands on my body, the press of his length against my thighs, Wequie’s captivated stare, and it only worsens as he deepens the meticulous capture of my mind, expertly pushing me back into the safe place of being his pisen that turns me weak.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, eyes struggling to hold his while he keeps touching me so shamelessly. “It felt important.”

Aias hums as though considering, or maybe he’s just entertaining me because he pushes me back as he does, working me up onto the small sill and pushing my legs open. I’m leaking already, mind muddling and falling fast because is he really going to—

I glance across the room, eyes struggling to find Wequie, who’s already blended himself to the walls. There are shadows deeper than they should be. I manage to spot hungry eyes within them, but nothing more as a firm hand takes me by the chin and forces my gaze forward again.

He is angry now, if not annoyed. My hole clenches around the plug.

“Distracted when you should not be,” he scolds while firm hands slip between my legs, “and acting as though you are afraid to be watched when I can taste your excitement.”

I bite my lip to keep my sounds to myself, but they soon slip out as Aias’ fingers meet the ridge of my plug and press in. He’s cruel, purposefully so, nudging it inside and stirring my body to life like it’s not already primed for him.

“At least you had the sense to keep yourself ready,” he mumbles more to himself than to me, and Gods, I have to fist the edges of the ledge I can just to keep myself from cumming. Aias’ eyes glow, sensing it. “None of that. Not until I say.”

I nod quickly even as my brain lags, numbed by the weight of my own lust and desperation.

“Hold yourself,” Aias instructs as he pushes my legs up and my hands dart out to take hold of my thighs. He smiles, “Look who can listen to instructions.”

Euphoria explodes in me, surging so quickly and suddenly that for a moment I can do nothing but stare at him while an instinctual readiness explodes inside of me.

Aias’ eyes gleam, but soon drift as he bends to grab something from the floor. “Is this what you went to retrieve?” He asks, holding up a satchel that’s vaguely familiar.

It takes one too many blinks for me to remember what it is, but by the time my mind catches up and my chest contracts, he’s already pulling at the drawstring and looking inside.

I have to hold onto myself not to try and stop him.

He frowns, confusion marring his features, and for one awful moment all I can think is the worst: that he’ll take them away or worse, throw them away. But no, he can’t do that. I don’t think I’ll let him, which is somewhat horrifying when there’s so little that I won’t let Aias do.

“Pisen,” he whispers, eyes stalling before they flick back up to mine. “What is this?”

How to answer that? Here and now, when a minute ago he was going to fuck me in front of one of my oldest friends.

I go with the truth. “I don’t know.”

Aias’ frown deepens, but not with anger— more contemplation. He studies me for a long while, the exploit leisured before he looks back into the bag and lets his lips fall into a flat line.

“Wequie, I am afraid I have to ask you to leave.”

Wequie’s groan is a ragged type of cry, agonised as though someone just ripped his heart out, and suddenly, it is very easy to sense where he is in the room. I do not look, too worried about upsetting Aias when he’s already made it clear where I should keep my attention. But I do see him in my periphery. I see him peel from the wall like a shadow, his horns high on his head having extended to their full length with his former excitement.

“I know,” Aias replies with a glance over his shoulder, eyes briefly sliding back to mine to ensure that I do not do the same. “But there is a possible matter here that would need to be private.”

“I swear you’re doing this on purpose now,” he grumbles, though his voice is strained by lust, and as he nears, I can feel it cloud over me like a fog. It causes heat to pool in my stomach, stoking the pleasure that’s dampened slightly in the last few minutes. “When will I get to watch the full show?”

“Next time perhaps,” Aias says with a shrug, the two of them conversing as though they are the pair that has been friends forever, or as though they have had secret discussions about this, when I know that is not the case. “Malcolm would like very much to be watched.”

“He said so?” Wequie asks, though he already knows the answer. That is not why he asked, and that is not why Aias answers with a smile as he gifts me with his attention again.

“Is it not obvious?” He purrs, and it becomes very, very hard not to move an inch as he stares down at me, at how I still hold myself open, hole and plug exposed to both the beasts that take me in.

“He’s always been a little freak,” Wequie replies with a near content sigh. “He was really looking forward to being watched just now. Shame.”

Aias frees a crestfallen hum of agreement, and my cock leaks onto the edge of my askewed robe.

It was bad enough when Aias spoke to me so, worse yet when he did it in the company of another, and with that other person.

I knew I liked strange things, had accepted that from the moment Aias first touched me and spoke to me as though I was some mindless animal, but he had softened since our earliest days, and I’d almost forgotten how terribly wonderful it felt to be treated and spoken about like this.

“Well, can’t be helped,” Wequie grumbles, passing us by with his fog of lust. “Promise me that next time I’ll get to watch you fuck him.”

“I will try my best,” Aias replies with a chuckle. “It will depend on the circumstance, though we know Malcolm will open his legs anywhere.”

Wequie laughs, and the two of them fall into it, as though I am not here, or worthy of being included, and the haze in my mind becomes a blanket I can not soon escape. I do not hear Wequie leave or register it, only know that one moment he is with us, and the next he is not, and my pyro is lifting the bag that had drawn me out of bed for further inspection.

“Tell me now, pisen. Why do you have a bag of pebbles?”

My stomach quivers before it knots, that earlier panic rearing its ugly head as I try to find the words to explain something I did not even understand.

“I do not know,” I repeat again, fingers trying to loosen, but Aias slaps my inner thigh so quickly, I do not even see it coming, only feel the sting before I moan and tighten my grip. “I-I was anxious— while we were apart. Restless is a better word for it. I… I found my hands idle, and they ended up in the dirt frequently.” His brows meet, and I hurry on to explain myself. “I did not realise it at first, and even when I did, I didn’t realise that I was collecting them.”

Aias pours a few of the tiny shining rocks into his palm, rolling them carefully between his fingers while my throat cages and locks. I had almost pawed Lincoln’s face off when he entered my tent before we’d left the Anouk Clan and almost saw them, but with Aias, there is both terror and excitement.

“It is a recent obsession, and this morning, I wanted them,” I explain, voice growing quieter while my face grows warmer.

Aias is quiet for a long while, for too long, his expression pensive, and while I had thought I’d grown so good at reading his expressions, I do not have a clue what he thinks now.

I want to believe that I glimpse something warm, like excitement and hope, but if I give myself that, then I must also admit to viewing the seriousness that accompanies that warmth and makes me feel nauseous.

“You can release them,” he says, patting the tips of his fingers to my thighs. I do, slowly, even as a sliver of disappointment races through me. Aias grins. “Do not fret, you will soon hold yourself open for me again, but we have to speak first.”

I look away, shame and pleasure rippling through me while I shift back on the sill to better sit on it when Aias gives no indication of giving me the space to do anything else.

“Do you remember how I told you to use pyro in place of Master?” He asks, and it is my turn to don a frown, but I still nod slowly. Aias hums and continues while his fingers toy with the pebbles in his palm. “In my realm, there is a… unique bond available to pisens and pyros.”

“Wait,” I stall, needing a moment. “They are not just names, or terms of endearment?”

Aias smiles fondly, hand rising to trace under my chin. “I use mine very endearingly with you, do I not, pisen?”

I do not think I have ever blushed as much as I have with this man.

“They represent certain types of creatures— one that initiates a rearing, and the other that likes to be reared,” he explains, and somewhere in the back of my mind, a memory of the first time he touched me rises.

It had felt like a fever dream at the time, and still did, but Aias had said something along the lines of ‘ones like me’ needing to be handled.

“So, they are names for naturally kinky elven creatures?” I narrow my eyes. “Is that the direct translation of dominants and submissives?”

Aias laughs, and it is too sweet a sound to ignore. I reach for him, fingers finding his hips and pulling him closer, and he lets me, stepping between my legs with an easy smile.

“Perhaps,” he replies, “I do not know the finer details of how it all operates in your realm. All that I know is that you and what you desire call to me in a way nothing else, and no other elf has.”

Pleasure ripples through me like that of a crashing wave, undulating inside my core over and over again, each swell better than the last. I tremble inside, unable to contain the joy of hearing such words from Aias’ usually clasped lips.

“We have spoken about this before,” Aias says with a raised brow.

“Yes, but…” you used to say it was physical only, and you never looked at me like you do now. I do not risk sharing such truths aloud, shaking my head. “It feels nice.”

Aias caresses under my chin again, and I find myself leaning into the touch, wanting more. “The point is, when a pyro and pisen match as we have, physical or otherwise, at times… the pisen might seek out a symbol of… that bond.”

My stomach loops, unable to help itself, and that is before Aias’ eyes darken.

“They usually gather an element that calls to them or is connected to them,” he continues, watching me closely while his fingers trail downwards to rub over my neck, “and gives it to their pyro.”

I swallow, my stagnant heart beating wildly in its phantom form.

Did he mean a collar? He had to. What else could he be referring to, but a collar was… Gods. I’d never had a collar before.

I stare at Aias just as he studies me, not daring to breathe, with his fingers gently tracing over my throat. “Do you wish to give this to me, pisen?” He asks, gaze scarily focused. “Is that why you went to retrieve it?”

I barely consider it before I nod. I did not know why I wanted it, or why I even started gathering them like nuts in the first place, but I had, and I had wanted to go back to Aias, to show them to him.

Aias hums, a deep rumbling sound that vibrates through him and slithers over my skin.

The space around him wavers, shimmering at the edges as though it struggles to contain what is happening inside of him. I watch it in rapture, wondering what Aias looked like when each of his inhibitions was abandoned.

“I will see to it,” he says while he tucks the satchel into the opposite side of the sill. “And just this once, you will get away with your disobedience, but I hope it is not a trend, Malcolm.” He eyes me with a tight frown. “I picked you because you listened.”

Anticipation shoots through me, stroking over my cock and heart at those words. “It’s not,” I promise, hands twitching, already wanting to reach for my legs again, but Aias had not yet said to. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” he purrs while his hand falls to his cock. My eyes drop and I swallow tightly as I watch him stroke over the growing length. “But we must rectify your mistake, correct?” My head bobbles, and this time, I reach for my thighs, unable to stop myself. Aias doesn’t mind, smile widening as he watches me raise them up. “Good pisen.”

Shrill pleasure runs through me, doubling when I imagine what it would feel like if he called me a good something-else too.

Aias’ hands fall to my waist and dig in as he forces me forward so that my ass is hanging over the ledge. I can hardly balance myself, back curled in the tiny space, but when he crowds me into the corner, there is nowhere else for me to go, and no other choice but to keep my legs open for him.

“Are you ready, pisen?” He asks, fingers already fishing my plug from between my legs.

“Yes, Ma— pyro.”

I correct myself quickly, fast enough that that first syllable could have been mistaken as a moan, but Aias knows me, and so he hears the truth of it. He pauses.

“Master?” He says for me, and my stomach falls, though he’s quick to herd my panic away as he takes me by the chin. “You are not in trouble.”

Then why does it feel like it.

I don’t risk saying the words, but Aias hears them anyway, the same way I hear the song of his heart.

His lips purse, twisting to one side. “Do you still wish to call me that, pisen? Or is it because of what we just discussed?”

I hesitate.

On the one hand, no. Not if pyro meant the same thing and he preferred it, but on the other… when he treated me like this, when he hinted at collars and when we fell into something that was more than me as Malcolm, and him as Aias, Master… appealed.

“Hm,” Aias hums without me uttering a single word. “We can try it,” he offers or rather decides, though his frown remains. “I warn you, I may not like it, but if you want it, pisen, I shall try.”

“No,” I shake my head, trying to sit up. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I know what… how that might feel different for you.”

“Yes, but you want it, and,” he adds, pushing me back down, “you have the power to change that, do you now, pisen?” He asks suggestively, golden eyes shifting between mine. “I might like it from your lips when I am in the middle of rearing you.”

I flush, fingers tightening around my thighs, but before I can protest any further, he tugs on my plug, forcing it from my hole.

It hurts for the first second, but then I am free, horribly aching, and empty, his cum already slipping free.

“Aias,” I whine, and he is there a second later, slicked cock pressing inside and— “Yes, yes, yes.”

Aias thrusts all the way inside and my mind blanks. Pleasure explodes behind my open eyelids, too much to think past, or even compute. There’s no other choice but to simply feel and take it as he releases a ragged breath before drawing his hips back.

“W-Wai—ahh!” I cry out as he slams back inside, giving me every inch, and hitting my prostate perfectly at this angle. The urge to cum is monsterous, but I shove it down, focusing on being good and being his. But Aias makes it so hard, stretching me on his cock until my hole quivers around him. “Aias!”

“I thought we were trying Master,” he muses while he works his hair from his face, panting over me and bathing me in his breaths. “Has a bit of cock made you forget already? Realms, you feel perfect.”

I shudder, the praise and reprimand hitting me from both sides. I shake my head, nails digging into my own skin the way my teeth dig into my bottom lip.

“No?” Aias coos while he finds a faster pace to start fucking me. It drives me further up the ledge, cornering me in the window, and I can only think to spread my legs wider. He fucks into me, hands falling over mine and forcing me to take it, to meet each of his thrusts that have stars bursting across my vision. “Yes?” He asks while he watches me unravel. “Use your words, pisen.”

I try, but I do not even remember what he’d asked or what he is asking. All I know is that it feels so good to be filled with his cock, his cum, to be touched again after days without him, to be used like this.

It feels so good.

“M-Master,” I moan between thrusts. Aias’ eyes flare. “Pyro,” They glow. “Aias.”

Aias wraps a hand around my neck, leashing me to the space between the window and the wall while he drives up into me, fucking me open until my eyes roll and I have to cling to him just as hard just to stop myself from cumming.

He said I couldn’t. Not yet. And I could hold it— would hold it.

I could be good. I would be. For Aias, I could be anything.

Aias smiles, exposing sharpened teeth as he stares down at me with eyes that glitter. “That is good, pisen,” he praises, and I moan beneath him, shaking at my toes. “So very good. You hold it for me. Do not spill. This is not for you, is it?”

I shake my head, toes curling. “N-No, Master.”

Aias’ eyes grow heavy as he groans and picks up the pace. “You are being used,” he grunts. “You are just a hole for me today, aren’t you?”

I shudder, hole pulsing around him while I fight tooth and nail not to cum on his cock. “Yes, Master.”

He moans, hips snapping harder against me as he yanks me to him by my neck to lick over my parted lips. “See?” He purrs. “I like it.” I whimper and he kisses me softly. “Now beg me to spill inside of you.”

Gods.

“Please ugh— please cum, Aias,” I whimper, jostling, mind blanking. “Please cum i-inside of me.” Aias fucks me harder, chasing the orgasm I can taste on my tongue. “Pyro,” I whine, kissing him where I can. “Please, please, please.”

Aias cums, hips snapping obscenely against me as he groans, pouring the sound into my mouth the same way he pours his cum into me. I cry out, taking it all and fighting against nature not to follow him and do the same.

When he finishes, he slumps against me as though I’ve drained him, and that feels gratifying in ways words might never describe, but I already know I haven’t.

Aias’ libido was strong, and he wasn’t done with me yet.

“No, no time soon,” he whispers against my neck as though I’d said that aloud. Perhaps, I had. “Perfect pisen,” he praises against my lips before his hips start rocking once more, “Give me everything.”

As though I have not already.

————————

I know my whole series is about mate-bonds, but these two really were meant to be

Thoughts??????

Thoughts on Malcolm’s lil moment with WEquie??? On the rock-plot reveal??? On how Aias was treating our sweet Malcolm this chapteR???? HOT HOT HOT

I feel like the vibes of them in this chapter was exactly how I always envisioned them when I was writing Master and it’s so satisfying to watch them and their relationship bloom into its full form. 

Like I knew beforehand I wanted Malcolm and Aias to reach to a point where he called him both pyro and Master, I just didn’t know how but I loved how it unfolded here, and I hope yall feel the same! I’m interested to hear cause I’m sure not everyone will love, which fair enough.

Anywayysssss, if you did love and enjoy, please comment and give it a like or star or whatever!

And if you’re hungry for more smut, there’s plenty Aias-Malcolm smut on my Patreon, but the next extra is a smut one of Julian punishing Aiden! 

– patreon.com/tippy446 or tippysuniverse.com!

That’s all for now!

Until next time,
Byeeeeeeeeeee Humanssssssssss