The homely scent of Rhalgr’s Reach greeted Cid as he slip ped in through the side entrance, adroitly avoiding both his crew and the swarms of adventurers passing through.
The Barber was populated with a few healers going about their business, and they were thankfully too engrossed in their work - mixing potions, cutting and washing bandages and the like - to notice Cid as he ghosted through to the little partition where Nero was holed up.
He pulled apart the curtain and peeked inside, only to be greeted by the sight of Nero’s back, curled around ridiculously so that he could actually fit on the bed. “Studying, are we?” Cid said softly, and pulled the curtain shut behind him.
He sat on the bed behind Nero, an icy cold fear running through him at the silence which was his response. Cid placed a gentle hand on Nero’s shoulder and shook him - only for his hand to sink through the covers and to the bed. Empty! He yanked back the covers to reveal Nero’s clothes bundled up to resemble a body, and a yellowed mop which had been all too easy to mistake for his hair.
Cid stood, looking around the makeshift room, dumbfounded. “Nero?” he said, as though the bastard was hiding behind a curtain somewhere, or underneath the bed. “This really isn’t funny!”
The curtain moved and Cid whirled round to see Nero leaning against the curtain post, a book under his arm and a bowl of something which looked and smelled suspiciously like stew in his other hand. “Garlond, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He sauntered over and perched on the bed, setting the book down on the bedside table and holding up his bowl of stew. “You look famished, man. I hope you’ve come to give me a full report, I’ve been goin-”
Cid stormed over to the bed and fell to his knees, gripping Nero’s thighs until his knuckles whitened. He leaned in close enough that their noses were nearly touching. “I thought you’d-” he growled, took a deep breath and started again. “Damn it Nero, I thought you’d gone and died on me !”
Nero placed one finger on Cid’s lips and leaned to the side, enough that he could set his bowl of stew down without it spilling everywhere, then leaned back in again. “Worse things than this have happened to me, as well you know. And besides, I’m meant to be on bed rest only, hence the subterfuge. You worry like an old man.”
“And you’re reckless like a bloody child!” Cid hissed. “We’re not at the academy any more, there aren’t any failsafes.”
“You’re quite one to talk, aren’t you.” Nero leaned back on his hands and looked down at Cid, a lazy smirk dancing on his lips. “Since you’re here and raring to have a showdown, I can only presume that you triumphed over Omega after all your prevaricating?”
Cid gripped Nero’s thighs tighter, then shook his head, a soft smile falling over his lips. He stood for long enough to push Nero back onto the bed, then knelt atop him, straddling his thighs. “I thought you were going to die ,” he said again, “hell, I thought I was going to die. And all that without seeing your stupid, infuriating bloody face again.”
“Without doing this, you mean?” Nero reached up and took hold of Cid’s locket, wrapping his fingers into it and yanking, bringing Cid roughly down so he could claim his mouth in a hard, needy kiss.
Cid grunted in surprise, struggled for a second before giving himself over fully. His eyes slid closed and he moaned as Nero slipped his tongue into his mouth. The chain of his locket was digging into his skin, but Cid didn’t care. Couldn’t care, not when he was kissing Nero tol Scaeva and shivers were running down his spine and straight to his groin and oh Hydaelyn Nero was getting hard too, and then Cid was grinding down against him, desperate for more - more pressure, more friction, more Nero .
They came up for air, that smile still dancing on Nero’s lips, and Cid growled down at him. “Damn you for taking that first, you’re going to be smug about that for days, aren’t you.”
“Nay, weeks even. Perhaps months.” Nero’s eyes glinted, and he dragged his gaze down to Cid’s lips and further. “You’re wearing decidedly too many clothes, Garlond. I do hope you’re planning on remedying that at some point.”
“I should have known you’d be a cheeky bastard even during-” Cid waved his hand, a flush coming to his cheeks. “During… well. You know.”
Nero laughed delightedly, but without a hint of malice. “You can’t even say it, can you? Oh, you are such an old man. Don’t you want to fuck me, Garlond? If you do, you have to tell me so.”
Cid growled again, flustered. The pounding in his dick and heat in his cheeks and the closeness of Nero and the scent of him, even through the clean hospital smell, was enough to drive him to distraction. And then Nero bit Cid’s bottom lip hard enough to hurt , and all his hesitation fell away. “You just wait, Nero tol Scaeva,” he murmured, voice gruff with want. “I’ll fuck you so hard you see stars .”
Nero’s hands slid down, mapping the broadness of Cid’s back at the same time as he arched off the bed, grinding their dicks together through maddening layers of fabric. “Not if I fuck you first,” he said with a smirk. “What do you say to a little wager? First one to come owes a boon to the other.”
He slipped his hands under Cid’s padded jacket, dipped down to just brush the curve of his arse and then around to pull the offending garment open with a frustrated growl. “Why so many belts? It’s like you delight in teasing me.”
“Let me help.” Cid sat back on his haunches, the sudden rush of cooler air against him somewhat unpleasant after their closeness and shared heat. He unfastened the belt of his jacket, then the buckles holding it closed, and it fell open, baring his vest.
“I do hope you’re not planning on keeping that ridiculous glove on.”
Cid raised an eyebrow and looked down at Nero. “I don’t know, maybe it could provide some benefits. Bigger hands?”
Nero snorted. “You don’t need bigger hands, Garlond. You’ve enough meat on you to fill me twice over, I’d wager.” He bucked his hips and groaned. “And in all the places that matter too, by the feel of it.”
Stifling a noise of shock, Cid turned his attentions to removing his glove. That done, he was suddenly hyper-aware of the way his jacket hung open; the way that Nero was devouring the sight of his bared chest like a long-sought-after meal. “Hey now,” he murmured, still pink about the cheeks.
“What? Afraid of a little complement? I didn’t have you down as being the shy and retiring sort. Guess there’s always a first time to be proven wrong.”
Cid slapped Nero on the chest with his glove, then flung it onto the floor next to the bed. “I thought you were meant to be helping,” he grumbled. “Instead of being lascivious.”
“Hard not to be, when you’re all up there like that. How does it feel to be the tall one, hmm?”
“Pretty damned good.” Cid rolled his shoulders, then before he could be stricken by yet more terrors, pulled off his jacket and sent it to join the glove on the floor. “Is this how you feel all the time? No wonder you look down your nose at everyone else.”
Nero reached a lazy hand upwards and palmed Cid’s dick. “What happened to fucking me senseless?”
“Well, you seem happy enough to exchange banter. Perhaps you’re afraid of starting things you can’t finish. Don’t forget our wager, now.” Cid leaned down, locket falling against Nero’s robe heavily, and pressed a kiss to his exposed collarbone. Experimentally, he sucked on it, nibbled with his teeth, noting every noise and movement Nero made under him and filing them away for later use.
“Ugh, get this thing off me,” Nero grumbled, squirming under Cid’s ministrations. “These robes leave a lot to be desired, let me tell you. Someone ought to give these healers some proper clothes.”
Cid sat back up again, enough that he could unfasten the clasp of Nero’s hempen robe and push it back off his shoulders. “You’ll have to move to get it all the way off,” he commented, trailing both his hands down the sharp planes of Nero’s chest. “Come on now, let’s have you.”
With a little grumbling and movement, Nero managed to get himself out of the robes and they joined the growing pile of Cid’s clothes on the floor. “Something about this feels unfair,” he said, laying back and tucking both hands behind his head. “ You’re still wearing clothes.”
His dick lay against his belly, hard and proud, and Cid swallowed. “So I am.” He fumbled with his belt - hah - and managed to get it unfastened, along with his trousers, and why did squirming out of clothes always feel fifty times worse when someone was watching you? And even moreso when it’d been so damned long since he’d done anything like this.
But all those thoughts flew from his mind when Nero took hold of his dick and pumped it, running a hand over the length, thumbing his slit, a pensive look on his face the whole time. “You- oh, shit Nero, goddamn.” Cid fell forwards, bracing both hands on Nero’s chest, head down and breath coming hard. “What are you plotting, that’s your- shit , your damned plotting face.”
Nero smirked, but he didn’t remove his hand from Cid’s dick. Nay, he continued with his slow, languid movements, exploring every thick inch of him, and if Cid wasn’t careful he was going to lose this damnable wager of theirs before they’d even technically begun.
“Come now,” he gasped as Nero squeezed his dick, “you’re giving me all the attention.” Cid could feel how hard Nero was, his hot, solid length pressed against Cid’s thigh. It was but the work of a moment to slide one hand down Nero’s flat belly - by the Twelve , his hip bones should be illegal - and take hold of his dick too.
An idea popped into Cid’s head, and he moved enough to give himself better purchase on Nero’s dick, and to give himself a much better view of the long bastard laid out so smug beneath him. Cid shuffled his knees until he was further down the bed, then bent to take the head of Nero’s dick into his mouth, guided by his hand.
He sucked lightly, applying pressure with his tongue to the sensitive underside where he knew bundles of nerves would light up like a closed circuit, and surely enough Nero’s harsh gasp and stuttering hips told him he was on track.
Flicking his eyes upwards, Cid watched Nero’s face as he sucked him in further, deeper; so deep that he almost gagged and that his nose was buried in Nero’s soft, blonde pubic hair. He inhaled the salt scent of him, calming the sensation of being choked, and flattened his hands on Nero’s hips, holding him down and still as he sucked him off.
Nero slipped one hand into Cid’s hair and took hold of one hand with the other. It gave him the leeway he needed to pull on his hair and buck his hips enough that he grazed the back of Cid’s throat roughly.
Cid choked through his nose, and narrowed his eyes up at Nero. Holding his gaze, he let go of Nero’s hips and steadied himself on the bed instead, fingers gripping the covers. Nero slid his other hand into Cid’s hair, holding him tight as he fucked into his mouth with sharp, staccato jerks of his hips.
Cid could feel Nero shuddering beneath him; could hear the changes in his groans; the way he slipped into murmuring sweet, soft nonsense under his breath as though he was so, so close, so achingly close.
And then without a warning, Nero’s hands softened and he stroked Cid’s scalp to the back of his neck, pulling him up and off his dick until he was sprawled atop him completely, and then in for a deep kiss.
“You didn’t seriously think I was going to let you win like that,” he murmured into Cid’s mouth, lips curling in a smirk.
“Maybe not,” Cid replied, then bit down on Nero’s bottom lip. “Worth a try, though.”
Nero grunted and arched up against Cid, rubbing their dicks together almost frantically. “Worth more than a try, but right now I’d welcome anything , damn it. Fuck me already .”
Cid chuckled deep in his throat, and he couldn’t find it within himself to care that Nero was swearing and generally being a demanding bastard. He never did anything by halves, did he? No, not his Nero. Ah… his Nero, was it now? Something to think about later, and not when he had the man himself underneath him and begging for it.
Reaching down between them, Cid took hold of both their dicks together, stroking them idly. “So how do you want me? Like this? Or perhaps on your knees…” He flushed at the thought, but if Nero noticed he didn’t say anything for once in his life.
“Like this,” Nero replied, breathing a little unsteady, “but with preparation! Come now, there should be something around here we can use as a lubricant.”
“Oh, I have someth- wait a minute.” Cid leaned over the side of the bed, effectively crushing Nero beneath his weight as he hooked his trousers closer. One of the pouches opened and he reemerged holding a blue, glass-stoppered and pear-shaped bottle, then went to his knees on the bed, to give himself better access to Nero.
“A Potion? I hardly think that’s going to do the trick, Garlond.”
Cid shook it gently side to side with a little smile. “Nay, hardly a Potion. It’s something I’ve been working on, to help increase the amount of usage we get out of weapons before needing to sharpen them again. It’s a base of shark oil, with a few additions of course.”
“I don’t care, get it open. You can regale me with the science later, I want you inside me.”
“ Twelve , Nero, are you always this demanding?” Cid unstoppered the bottle and sniffed it delicately. “Eugh, I think I’ll have to improve upon the sme- ah, of course, forgive me.” He flashed a grin at Nero from under his eyebrows, then tipped the bottle enough that some of the oil pooled out into his palm. “What was it you were saying?”
Cid set aside the bottle, stopper replaced, and rubbed his fingers into the puddle of oil, filing away for later the viscosity of it, and the way it coated his skin. Cid held Nero’s gaze as he trailed his lubricated fingers down Nero’s dick and lower, pressing his thumb against his entrance curiously.
Nero groaned long and loud and wiggled his hips so that the tip of Cid’s thumb slid inside him with wholly less resistance than Cid was expecting. “None of this one-two-three business, I want to feel you.”
“Weren’t you lecturing me on preparation only a moment ago?” Cid cocked his head as he removed his thumb and pushed in two fingers, watching Nero squirm beneath him.
“Yes yes, but that was then and this is now.” Nero wriggled and moved until his arse was pressed up against Cid’s thighs.
Cid pulled Nero a little further up with his free hand, spreading his own knees a little to get them both settled. His dick twitched as it brushed against Nero’s thigh, and Cid pulled his fingers out of Nero’s arse with a groan. “Enough for you?” he said roughly, stroking his dick with his lubed up hand. Twelve, Nero looked good enough to eat, with his legs draped casually over Cid’s thighs, spread open for him.
Reaching down, Nero took hold of Cid’s dick and guided it against his entrance, pressing himself against it until Cid slipped inside - just the head - with a guttural grunt.
Cid paused there to just breathe; to adjust to the hot tightness; to run his palms over the plane of Nero’s stomach, those vicious hips, the softness of his pubic hair and the hardness of his dick.
Taking hold of Nero’s dick, Cid stroked it slow and soft as he pushed inside him. “ Shit ,” he murmured, and had to stop for a second to catch his breath.
Nero scrabbled for the bedsheets and gripped a handful with one hand, the other finding purchase on Cid’s thigh and squeezing. “Don’t you dare stop now,” he hissed, digging his fingers in hard.
“I don’t think I could if you paid me,” Cid grunted. “Just need more-” he grabbed the bottle of oil once more and tipped out a generous helping across the base of his dick. He was less careful putting the bottle aside this time, dropping it with the lid half-on so that he could rub the oil onto his dick and around Nero’s entrance.
It gave him enough extra lubrication to be able to slip all the way inside, and the slowness of it, the heat of it, the immense tightness of it made Cid groan long and loud. “You’re-” he gasped, “you’re sure I’m not hurting you?”
Nero squeezed Cid’s thigh harder and flashed him a glare. “Not hurting, it’s good. Fuck me .” He rolled his hips as he spoke, driving himself harder onto Cid’s dick and by all the Twelve, it was like seeing the universe bursting behind his eyes.
Cid leaned over Nero and started to fuck him in earnest, his lubed up hand on Nero’s dick and the other caressing his face, as he noticed, abstractly, that Nero hadn’t shaved for some time and his stubble was somewhat raspy against his palm.
They moved together with low grunts and moans. Nero swore under his breath as Cid pulled out almost all the way and then slid back in again, the fat head of his dick pushing right against Nero’s prostate with every thrust.
“Like that,” Nero hissed, gripping Cid’s thigh harder. “Yes, like that, come on .”
Cid groaned, but did as he was bidden. How could he resist when Nero was so deliciously demanding? Nay, he couldn’t. And so he continued, all thoughts of bets and who was to come first fleeing from his mind as his pleasure began to build and build; the slow, intense pressure of his pace; the way that Nero arched beneath him, as beautiful and wanton a thing as he’d ever seen, his toes curling as- oh.
Cid refused to let go of Nero’s dick as he bucked against him, spilling himself all over Cid’s fingers and his own belly with abandon and a noise so guttural it sent Cid over the edge as well. He bit down his own groan, bending over Nero as his hips jerked to completion.
With a long, shaky exhale, Cid collapsed over Nero, still deep inside him and not caring a jot for how sticky he was getting, from exertion as well as from Nero’s come smeared across his belly like an anointment.
“Get off me, you gigantic lump of a man.” Nero pushed Cid off him and sideways so he slid onto the bed, then rolled away and onto his side, facing away from Cid and curling up a little, as though he was trying to make himself smaller.
Shuffling across the bed, Cid scooped Nero in with his arm until he was tucked against him like a much thicker ungainly little spoon. “Don’t worry about the bet,” he murmured into Nero’s ear, “first times don’t count, I reckon. How about best of three?”
Nero swatted the back of Cid’s hand, but he relaxed back against him, mollified, folding his fingers into Cid’s at his belly. “That might just do it,” he replied, leaning his head against Cid’s broad chest, a satiated smile spreading across his lips. “Though I hope you’re not expecting to always be in the position of control, Garlond.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. How could I deprive you of all the pleasure I just experienced?”
“Hmm, it was rather good wasn’t it.” Nero arched against Cid, stretching like a coeurl with a little noise of contentment. “Although that lubrication of yours could do with some work. I can still smell it from here, and let me tell you that I do not like it.”
“Ah yes, that. Well I thought it did the job satisfactorily in a pinch, but I have to agree with you. Perhaps we could persuade our old mutual friend to gather us some herbals next time he’s out in the field. Something fresh and soothing, I think. A sort of aloe, perhaps?”
“Are you thinking to use it as a massage aid as well? Aloe would be too sticky for lubrication, surely. I’d say you’d want something more akin to an oil, perhaps silicone-based?” Nero stifled a yawn and pressed his head into the less-than-comfortable infirmary pillow. “Troubleshoot it later Cid, I need my sleep or the chirurgeons will have my head.”
Cid chuckled. “More like they’ll have my head for interrupting your healing rest.” He kissed the back of Nero’s neck, inhaling the scent of his hair, unwashed as it was.
“Your beard tickles,” Nero murmured, voice getting drowsier and drowsier. “Feels nice. How’s it so soft?”
“You’re talking nonsense, Nero,” Cid whispered back, smile tingeing his voice. “Hush now, go to sleep.”
His own eyes were beginning to droop, muscles pleasantly aching, when the rough sound of a curtain being swept back startled Cid back into wakefulness.
“Mister Garlond! Just what are you doing here and where is my patien-” The chirurgeon stormed over to the bed and then stopped short, her narrowed eyes taking in the pile of clothes and belts, the discarded, half-empty bottle of lubrication, and with a delicate sniff of the air, she folded her arms. “I do not want to know, but you can get yourself back to your own quarters Mister Garlond, and leave my patient to his Twelve-damned recovery!”
Nero rolled over and waved a disgruntled arm at the chirurgeon, not even bothering to open his eyes. “He’s fine Lorelha, let him stay.”
“I will do no such thing. Up you get, Mister Garlond, do not make me ask you again.” Lorelha’s expression softened a touch as she turned back towards the curtain. “It won’t be long before you’re out of here, Mister Scaeva, and then you can do as you please. Until then, please do try not to exert yourself any more than necessary.” She eyed up the stew bowl on the bedside table. “And if you need more food, you’ve only to ask! Twelve preserve me, it’s like being nurse to a three year old all over again.”
And at that, Lorelha left the room and pulled the curtain sharply closed behind her.
Cid let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “I feel like a naughty schoolboy caught in the act,” he said with a gruff bark of laughter.
“Not quite in the act,” Nero replied with a smirk. “I think she’d be somewhat more traumatised if that were the case.”
Cid flushed with mortification. “Oh hell, I don’t even want to think about it.” He sighed. “Well, I suppose I should leave you to your rest, Mister Scaeva.” He leaned over Nero and kissed him gently on his impeccable jawbone. “I trust you’ll come and find me, once you’re given the all-clear?”
Nero rolled over and pulled Cid down by the back of his neck, kissing him deeply. “You’ll not be able to get rid of me, if you keep on in that fashion. Who would’ve thought that the great engineer prodigy Cid nan Garlond would be such a delightful fuck?”
He let go of Cid and pulled the covers up and around himself, looking for all the world like a coeurl who’d got the cream. “Now shoo, before she comes back. I need my rest, after all.”
Cid laughed, and a warm shiver wended its way down his back. A delightful fuck, was it? Hmm, he supposed he could get used to that, even if it was a far cry from how he generally thought of himself. “Alright, well I’ll be by tomorrow evening to check on your progress. Do try not to cause yourself any further injuries in my absence, won’t you?” He sorted through the pile of clothes and got himself dressed, then left the tent to the sound of Nero’s gentle breathing.
- - -
In truth, it was more like the next morning when Nero re-appeared, carrying a bundle of his normal clothes along with a selection of potions and tonics enough to carry a regiment through an epidemic.
“I self-discharged,” he said by way of hello, leaning casually against the doorframe of Cid’s tiny room as though this were a normal occurrence.
Cid looked him up and down and raised a single eyebrow. “Aye, I can see that. And you got an earful, I imagine?”
"You could say that.” Nero sauntered over to the bed and dropped his bundle onto it without ceremony, though he placed the box of potions and tonics a mite more gently atop the pile. “My ears will be ringing for days to come, I suspect.”
Cid was across the short distance in a heartbeat, wrapping both of his arms around Nero’s waist. He pressed the side of his face against Nero’s back, breathing in his scent. Even mingled with medicine as it was, it was still intoxifying.
“Now Garlond, anyone would think I’d been away for weeks. It’s just been the night.” Nero reached up and pressed both his hands against Cid’s, though, the tenderness in his touch belying his harsh words.
“Never mind that,” Cid replied, muffled against the softness of Nero’s medical robe. “I had a notion that you’d be disappearing off into the blue again with nary a word of goodbye.” He took a shaky breath, and the tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding onto drifted away from his body like a cloud of steam from the Boilmaster.
Nero snorted. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to have me fitted with a tracking device anytime soon. Besides, where else would I show off my new designs?” He turned around and pushed down the hood of his robe.
There was a flash of red underneath his robe as the hood fell down, and then Nero shrugged out of the thing completely and gave Cid the full view of his new designs . “What do you think? Flashy enough for my tastes without compromising style and utility.”
This time Cid’s look was more lingering: a rare pleasure that he’d never been able to indulge in so openly before. “I- I like it. It’s different, as you say. Almost looks scholarly, in fact. Quite professional, even with the plate legs”
“Hah, scholarly. This is gear for a fighting man, not a healer, I’ll have you know. There’ll be no more robes for me.” Nero toed the edge of the plain medical robes with distaste. “Someone really ought to show them the wonders of new fibre fabrics. If Redolent Rose got his eyes on these he’d be aghast.”
“And why would Redolent Rose have anything to do with the medical robes of Ala Mhigo?” Cid sat down on the bed and, one arm around Nero’s waist, pulled him down with him.
“My point remains. No sick person should be subjected to hempen garments when they’re trying to convalesce.” Nero set the box of potions on the floor and the pile of his old clothes followed, leaving behind quite a mess. He laid back and tugged Cid down with him, shuffling enough that they could both fit comfortably on the bed, even if his own toes were hanging off the edge somewhat. “And I’d much rather finish up my own convalescence here, besides.”
“In the tiny room in the middle of barracks full of other people?” Cid tucked himself alongside Nero and found that for once, he quite enjoyed their height difference, and the way that it allowed him to rest his head on Nero’s chest comfortably.
“It’s a hell of an improvement on the infirmary.” Nero looked down at Cid and, with a thoughtful expression, pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Better view, for one.”
“Hm, I think that’s my line.” Cid closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of holding Nero and being held by him; neither of them at odds for what had to be one of the first times in their lives.
Nero chuckled softly. “As you will. You know, I think I may stick around this time. Don’t think I’m anywhere near done with you, Garlond.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”