Going Free.: Going Free (oneshot)

 

Xaldin and Xigbar don't have a relationship. They don't confess their love or have tender moments. They don't even get along well half the time. Not in The Castle, not out on the streets of the endless abandoned city in The World that Never Was, and not in bed.

Xigbar kicks and bites and his fingernails are like fucking blades, and Xaldin is every bit his match for ferocity. Every time they’ve enjoyed each other’s company both inevitably emerged from the experience looking a bit like they’d only just managed to survive, but that's probably why they had always kept their appointments so regularly. They both so recklessly fed each other.

Xaldin strolls with his hands folded behind his back, boots clicking hollowly down the empty echoing corridors. Usually he would shortcut through the dark, but making it down to Xigbar's proof didn’t require haste at the moment as he was not actually expected.

Approaching the doorway and shiny placard marked simply, ‘II’, he rather pointedly does not knock, instead pushing the door open with a large hand and leaning casually against the frame. "Xigbar, it's that time again…" He smirks, a friendly conversational tone in his deep voice, and offers the sharpshooter a toothy grin as he drops his blatant, expectant command.

"As if.... Don't you ever knock? Damn..." Xigbar doesn't do much more than glance up at the larger dreadlocked nobody in his doorway with an eyeroll and continue checking over his weapons as he had been doing before the not entirely unwelcome or unexpected interruption.

Xigbar doesn't dislike Xaldin. Their attitudes clash at times and the man is just as violent as he is. He didn't view these things as faults though..

"Shut the door already, shit... You're lettin’ all the friggin' white in..." Xigbar vanishes his weapons and stretches, tilting the wooden chair in which he sits back on two legs and just balancing it there, reclining comfortably and finally looking Xaldin in the face, smirking, single yellow eye narrowed in something like malicious invitation.

“Xally…you look anxious dude… Rough day? The scarred and one eyed nobody mocks concern with blithe amusement, resettling the chair which he expertly balances, back onto all four of it’s legs with a slowness and grace that should not have been (in fact wasn’t) possible, for anyone but the Freeshooter.

Shaking his head with a soft snort, Xaldin steps fully into the far more dimly lit and tastefully decorated room shutting the heavy door against the blinding hallway outside. “Nahh… The usual… uppity brats and…. Well… The Superior…” He trails off, cocking an amused eyebrow. “What you want to help me blow off some steam?” He smirks viciously, leaning heavily against the closed door and throwing the bolt.

Xigbar rises, an unreadable expression on his scarred face and crosses the room with swift strides to take Xaldin gently by the elbow and propel him back the way he’d come. Bypassing the chairs and table he makes for a narrow door in the far wall, tugging the Lancer along with him. Xaldin had been in this very room countless times but he didn’t remember ever seeing that portal before.

Xigbar? Did you... expand?” The Lancer looks askance at his wildly grinning companion, who isn’t answering and Xaldin allows himself to be led on without another word.

Once through the door Xaldin first notices the scale of the place. It’s enormous, a perfectly spherical room and amazingly enough, even though they have just walked through a regular door in a regular wall, they have now emerged from what seems to be a hatch in the floor. Xaldin can’t tell, the room has no features save the portal they have just entered by, they could have dropped through and be suspended from the ceiling with Xigbar leading.. in his proof… his domain, and with his element, bearing the ambiguous designation of “space”.

“II, what the hell?” The dreadlocked man pauses, reassessing his surroundings and noticing the stark whiteness of the spacious enclosure. “Nice décor…” He snickers casually, scratching idly at one bushy sideburn and turning in a wide circle to take in all the nothing the room had to offer.

“Oh shut up.. I haven’t had time to adjust its color… I only created it this morning… I knew you’d be coming up in here to mess up my day so I spent the morning making this so I could be sure you wouldn’t fuckin’ bore me to death.” Xigbar’s tone is teasing and derisive but his remaining eye is alight with mischief and something like pride. “Just…. gimme a second…”

Xaldin has both angular eyebrows raised to his braided hairline. “Boring am I? You know I could always begin gracing the suites of others with my frightful dullness…”

“Aww baby don’t be like that man.. You know I’m yanking your chain..” Xigbar tries to amend a bit distractedly while concentrating on the room around him, altering with intent alone.

Xaldin carries on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Vexen’s been looking a bit like a caged animal lately… He just won’t admit a body.. real or not, heart or not, has needs.. Fucking bookworm.. and that’s amusing coming from me isn’t it?” III Continues amicably.

Xigbar nods distractedly. The room slowly begins to darken, traceries of a deep purple shot through with jagged black tendrils erupt in irregular blotches along the sloped walls and curved overhead, pulling a color and a softness with them as they expand, soft kid leather, thickly padded in a luscious grape color.

“Yanno… sometimes I really fuckin’ love this piece a shit, Gods forsaken, ass crack of nowhere Castle that Never Fucking Was.” Xigbar beams as his companion trails off and begins turning slowly to take in the aesthetic upgrade.

The room is now softly lit with hovering globes in various shades of violet and appears to be entirely upholstered in soft leather, plushly padded.

“Very... purple..” The Lancer deadpans.

“Ahh eat it.. The Freeshooter playfully flips the bird and makes a noise of satisfaction as he regards Xaldin with a quirked eyebrow. You like it ok? I made it for you..”

“And purple’s my color?” A raised eyebrow-

“As if, dumbass. The color’s for me.” A flip of silver streaked ponytail. “You look hot in purple..” A devilish leer-

“Is that so?” An amused smirk-

“Do you wanna stand here talking all damn day, or do you wanna try the place out? Sheeesh! It’s like pullin’ fucking teeth…” Xigbar mutters, rifling his pockets for some lost object.

“… What’s it do? Besides poison you with purple.. “ Xaldin grabs one last jibe.

“You know what, fuck you man…” The Freeshooter laughs explosively.. “Fucking no one else gets to know you talk this damn much… Lucky me.. Talk some shit too I might add…” He shoots the Lancer a sour look, snapping his fingers.

With that snap, the environmental qualities of the room had changed in some not instantly discernable way, Xaldin can’t quite tell what is now different, until he makes a move, pushing off accidentally and floating a bit less than gracefully away from the point on the featureless curved surface where he had just stood, a slightly twitching jumble of long braids, limbs, and coat flaps.

Xigbar shakes his head, amused, watching as III drifts at a good clip across the large enclosure and impacts the far side.

Seeing the wall looming closer at speed Xaldin tries to slow his momentum to no avail. He throws his arms up to shield himself from impact and piles face first into the far wall coming to an abrupt stop.

Only that’s just it, as soon as his outstretched hand touches the leather of the padded wall he simply stops, no deceleration, no sickening jolt, just the uncomplicated end of his brief flight.

“We’re ‘free’… inertialess… gravity is at one twentieth. Rich oxygen atmosphere… and well, I control the horizontal… and the vertical… But you knew that coming in here…” Xigbar’s voice drips satisfaction and dark amusement from just behind Xaldin’s left ear.

Fighting his ungracefully suspended garment and his own unruly rope like locks the Lancer attempts to turn and face his smirking tormenter, a slight snarl of real anger twisting his generally serene, if a bit severe expression. Xaldin finally rotates his body, righting himself in relation to the wall and gripping with strength, fighting a wave of disorientation as the smirking Freeshooter drifts slowly down past him, upside down in relation to his position.

“Xigbar…” The tone isn’t all irritation and warning but close. Part of Xaldin really doesn’t want to admit that Xigbar’s little ‘gift’ had actually stirred something in his mind, awakened an unconscious memory of an emotion he can almost remember the taste of, like the name of someone you’ve forgotten… just on the tip of your tongue.

Out of habit more than anything else he shakes his head to banish the odd sensation of half feeling. It was easy and somewhat satisfying to mock humor, or to feign insult, or mimic disappointment. Trying to remember heartfelt gratitude and appreciation… affection.. came at higher difficulties and caused more internal confusion, more painful aches through the unnatural void at their very cores.

“Xaldin…” The one amber eye glints dangerously, in stark contrast to the soft purr that Xigbar wraps his name in as he lets it drift from his lips.

Xaldin still has his back pressed into the pliant softness of the gently curved wall, feeling more at the moment like he was really lying supine, gazing up at Xigbar floating effortlessly above him, his thinner body positioned along Xaldin’s inverted axis. The Freeshooter slowly rotates to match him.

Xaldin’s scowl deepens but it’s now accompanied by a wicked defiant grin. The Lancer has about had enough of that smug one eyed face already. He summons a gentle breeze, commanding it with an instinctual finesse and drifting almost lazily away from the wall.

“You always did catch on quick Dilan…”

“You always gave me the good puzzles.. Braig…”

“Lemme show you something. Come here…” Xigbar unfolds his arms from where they were crossed over his chest, beckoning as his Lancer drifts nearer wordlessly, on his little zephyr.

Xaldin also extends his arms as he closes the distance between them to collide with his companion, expecting the standard rough meeting of their bodies, clashing hip bones and groins half hard from merely being near each other, a bruising impact of lips and teeth.

It never happens though and Xaldin’s eyes widen in shock as his body comes to rest against Xigbar’s hot, wiry frame, halting all momentum instantly and with such sweet sensuality as their arms encircle and contract, each drawing the other in to the soft but insistent press of lips, impossibly gentle, they meet, almost like two bodies of liquid, rejoining after a barrier between them is removed. Free.. inertialess…

It’s the gentlest most intensely erotic physical sensation Xaldin has ever experienced in his current half existence or his rich former life as Dilan.

‘Oh..’ He’s never been hard so swiftly that it made his head spin.

“Ahh…hnn…Xi-igbar…” Xaldin pulls back, breathless. Even as they remain fully clothed it suddenly feels that they couldn’t be closer. He can almost… There’s something… fluttering just out of reach.. humming too softly to make out the tune… shrouded by a darkness so thin it could be rent by a wish but so concealing it makes you wonder if the thing it obscures ever really existed in the first place. He can almost touch it…

“You like?” Xigbar’s one remaining eye glints with a strange fire and for once there is no mockery in his smile.

“Yeah… I do.”

“Good… I’ll keep it around then… maybe adjust the color… for you.” Xigbar smirks again, drawing heated lips and sharp teeth gently along Xaldin’s stubbly jaw line, reaching up to unhook the decorative chest chain and drag the other’s heavy zipper down without preamble.

“No… Don’t change it…” The Lancer actually notes with interest that his cheeks are pinking slightly with more than just arousal. He feels… flattered? “I actually really do like purple… I was just being a dick…” He trails off again, confused, still grasping at his strained and tepid emotions. “Xigbar… I… Thank you… for this..” He quickly tugs one long black leather glove free letting it tumble away on a current of air, reaching to pull the tie from his companion’s hair, releasing the silver streaked locks to drift sensually in the micro gravity.

“Don’t mention it..” The Freeshooter grins triumphantly. “You can thank me by… mmm.. making the most of it.”

“Just what did you have in mind?” The heavy leathers slip effortlessly from their bodies with their pushing hands and fingers more gentle than anything they have ever experienced with each other, the ‘free’ environment allowing no hard impacts or indelicate contact, fluidity infusing each action and reaction as they release their gear to drift lazily among the hovering pale lights.

Xigbar just smirks knowingly and Xaldin cannot help but growl low as the other’s hard whipcord body is revealed, scored over as he is by ancient injuries in long jagged striations, flawlessness, Xaldin constantly finds, is not necessary to Xigbar’s beauty.

“Damn….” The word is more of a gasp really as Xigbar’s ungloved fingertips trace lightly through and then more firmly bury into the thick curly hair covering his broad muscular chest, brushing taut nipples with calloused trigger fingers, sending sensual jolts through his tight stocky body, accompanied by hard puffs of breath as his eyelids actually flutter.

“D-damn….” He repeats, rolling his eyes back to the front in time to catch Xigbar’s smirk. “Xigbar…” He warns, his full lips pulling at a smirk of his own until his expression is suddenly rearranged into a grit toothed groan by the simultaneous sensation of his companion’s hot mouth closing over one of the hard nubs and a warm hand smoothing up his inner thigh to cup him gently.

Smirk still firmly in place as he pulls away from one nipple to tease and bite at the other, Xigbar strokes Xaldin lazily, the inertialess environment amplifying the smoothness of each motion, adjusting the relative speed of all impacts to one fluid constant.

One maddening fluid constant… “Fucking…f-fu…Gods!” One drawn, breathless, eternal moment of tortured bliss… The Lancer wouldn’t ever admit to anything like writhing with abandon under the heated touch of his Freeshooter, it seemed so involuntary… so submissive, but it’s exactly what he’s currently doing as the hand that strokes him with that unbearable, taunting smoothness and fluidity is replaced by the even more sanity searing slick heat and pressure of his companion’s mouth.

There’s nothing for Xaldin to clutch, no anchoring solidity beneath his feet, or at his back, or beneath his hands or knees. The quality of suspension has him reeling and his eyes roll back and slip closed, a shudder of pleasure traveling the length of his body from his curling toes to the top of his spinning head. He cries out sharply as the quality of sensation around his aching length buried in Xigbar’s hot undulating throat changes suddenly, his companion rotating his body, using The Lancer’s painfully aroused penis as the pivot point.

“Xig….bar.. W-what… are..” Breathless panting cuts Xaldin’s coherency to ribbons as Xigbar pulls his hot and pulsing slick mouth away with a pop, making The Lancer’s whole body twitch and nudging his own arousal against his companion’s furry cheek, having rotated one hundred and eighty degrees, inverted parallel. “Quit slackin’ Xally.” Xigbar’s amused voice intones.

A slit eye and ‘down’ward glance reveals the Freeshooter’s smirking face between his spread thighs, one hand firmly gripping his left buttock and the other palming him lazily spreading the slick fluid he was weeping with slow achingly pleasurable circles of one calloused trigger finger.

He can only nod mutely, taking a hold of Xigbar’s thighs and slipping the pulsing arousal between them into his mouth. As he lets his eyes fall shut and his tongue caress familiar contours, Xaldin wonders briefly if he had ever truly controlled any of their encounters that had taken place in Xigbar’s quarters. When Xigbar’s wet heat and writhing tongue return to him, he is suddenly even more certain he had not.

‘It’s not fair he’s had a head start..’ Xaldin’s hips twitch uselessly. With nothing to press against he cannot force Xigbar’s teasing pace, the qualities imposed by the ‘free’ environment muting any possible harshness of motion, any sharp scrape of wicked teeth. It’s quite literally driving him up a wall as he suddenly feels the subtle press of the pillowed softness at his back and grips tightly with one hand, the other remaining firmly on Xigbar’s ass, pulling him into his open throat.

But Xigbar is pulling away slowly. ‘What’s he…’

“You’ll wanna move, but don’t man…” Xigbar’s voice carries a note of warning and his breath ghosts over Xaldin’s slick arousal making it ache to return to that unending torture but Xigbar’s hand is sliding up the inside of his thigh, gliding between his buttocks to slickly trace the puckered opening there.

Xaldin does urgently want to move and is doing so even before he thinks about it, drawing his knees closed and flinching away from the strange touch. But the barest muscle twitch is all he manages before an unseen force locks him solidly to the plush forgiving softness beneath him, keeping his knees parted wantonly and arms weighted immovably at his sides. At this moment, Xaldin had never felt more supine, pinned and open… until the moment Xigbar’s slicked fingers just barely breach him.


“I told you not to move man…”


Xaldin isn’t prepared for the sensation that follows. He was braced to fight back a howl of pain, to force himself to relax around the invasion and avoid tearing injury. He was ready to bite through his own tongue rather than make a sound beyond a grunt of protest.

He is not prepared for the keening wail that breaks from his now slack mouth as the digits slip inside him, impossibly smooth and fluid. They don’t even feel like fingers at all. Fingers have nails and knuckles, they have shape and texture. Space is featureless, smooth and gently curved, cold and hot simultaneously.

His cry dies out to a deep groan as his hips strain to roll against the gravity effect that pins them immobile. He knows Xigbar can feel him fighting the bonds and they relax slightly in response, just enough to allow his spine to arch and his toes to curl, just enough for his head to roll back.

The space that his captor wields within his body withdraws and enlarges as another finger is added, sliding frictionlessly and effortlessly back in and Xaldin finds his body doing all those things and more, a wave of nearly palpable sensation flooding his whole tiny momentary world with white light and a pleasure that slams through his nervous system, leaving a jittery tremor in his tensing thighs and low in his abdomen, his balls tightening… oh yes, he knew this feeling…”Xig…ba-ar…”

“Don’t disappoint me…” The smirk in that voice is enough to bring him around a bit and he manages to calm his quaking body, biting his lip and rolling with the lazy thrusts of the digits that part him.

“You seem to be taking this well Xally.. I’m kinda surprised.”

It’s a monumental effort to convince his own voice not to trill and shake as the flawless force still moves within him, gliding smoothly and sensually over sparking nerve bundles.

“I recall… times where I have caressed your bound and naked body with gentle currents and eddies of wind to make you shiver and gasp and arch in ways that pleased me… and I know I have had you, as I now am, many times. I can only assume this is .. payback… but I fail to understand your methods. Why do you treat me so gently? You could hurt me, tear me, claw me to ribbons… Why all of this?”

The smooth invasion leaves him slowly and Xaldin bites back an undignified whimper as his body spasms in its absence. The void is quickly filled by his Freeshooter’s stiff, thick member, slick and gliding in like a dream of silk on steel.

He’s doing it again… writhing uncontrollably, fighting to hurry his tormentor’s slow… achingly slow impalement, muscles standing out starkly as he fights gravity for control, he’s wailing again. ‘I’m never going to hear the end of this…’

“I just kinda wanted to see if it could be different… and still good.” The nobody above expels a hard puff of breath, eyebrows knit and single yellow eye clenched as tight as his grit teeth. Xaldin watches rapt as his mouth drops open on the equally smooth withdraw.

“You’ll wanna brace for this…” He adds helpfully, driving his hips forward with a snap of his fingers for effect as he releases the elemental enchantment holding them ‘free’ and plows into his Lancer’s sweet spot with all the force restrained by the taut muscles of his wiry body, the impact so much more solid for all the impossibly gentle contact they had accustomed themselves to.

The world simply disappears, it’s all just too much, and Xaldin knows he’s never ever come so hard. Not ever, but at the moment he’s releasing himself in wave after violent wave, and he can’t even begin to make sense of the possibility of life after this orgasm, let alone life before it. There is only this one moment, this one perfect, twisting, yanking, tearing pleasure.

In direct spite of all dignity, Xaldin screams, splattering both their torsos to the chin.

His sounds are instantly swallowed as moist, heated lips close over his, breathing their own cry of rapture into his burning lungs as Xigbar only manages a few shallow twitches of his hips before succumbing to the pull of that delicious friction and Xaldin’s spastic tightening.

It takes The Lancer a few moments to realize that he is no longer restrained by the puppet gravity of his devious companion, and to notice that he has both legs wrapped around his Freeshooter’s tight solid waist, locked at the ankle, and with both thick arms entwined about his scarred torso and shoulders, gripping into his wildly flowing, streaked hair.

“Mmmm… Ya gonna destroy me now?” The breathless voice queries lightly as warm and surprisingly soft lips pull away to trail over his jaw line, mouthing the contours with teasing scrapes of teeth, dipping to nuzzle at tender areas along his throat and neck. The shudder The Lancer’s body gives jostles Xigbar’s softening cock free and he slips it out with a wince that matches Xaldin’s, both their bodies missing the very intimate contact immediately.

He shakes his head… “You could have just told me you wanted to top…” Xaldin’s still twitching limbs grip tighter around Xigbar’s relaxed and pleasure flushed body, holding the other to him as they drift away from the wall, back towards the floor hatch exit.

“Yeah I’m sure that’d have gone over like a lead balloon…” An amused snort next to his pointed ear-

“Even a lead balloon will fly in your domain, Freeshooter…” A chuckled reply against one equally pointed-

“Point… Maybe we can elevate such unlikely objects here again, Lancer…” A playful tongue along the shell, curling through one large heavy earring-

“Perhaps we can…” Xaldin chuckles at Xigbar’s mockery of his careful speech.

“ Heh…you think that trick was good…” A smug promise-