Gabriel Bautista (xochipilli) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-06-18 17:57:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | freyr, xochipilli |
in my restless dreams, i see that place
Who: Xochipilli (Gabe) and Freyr (Rafe)
What: An exchange of rituals… among other things.
Where: Ye olde Norse places.
When: Ye olde godly times.
Rating: NC-17, for m/m.
The forest was thick: Trees crowded so near to one another that in some places they nearly formed a solid wall. The earth was marked by nothing more than the narrow paths of animals, small hoof- and paw-prints to indicate the back and forth of its numerous and well-hidden denizens. There were other tracks, as well, if one knew how to look. A single, subtle path was marked only by a lingering warmth and a faint sheen in the air. But it dissipated quickly, drifting away on a soft breeze.
Sunlight trickled like rain through dense foliage, dappling the ground in green and gold. In the very center of this place, ringed by a copse of ash and birch, a single figure basked in the sun. He lay on a carpet of thick grass, so perfectly green it seemed almost unnatural. Clad in only a wisp of golden cloth, he was, in that moment, the very picture of peace and contentment.
Such was apparent to the stranger who looked completely out of place in the placid setting. Xochipilli, covered solely by his simple loincloth, was as dirty and irreverent as he'd been in his own space; his limbs, colorfully tattooed with flowers and plants, were a splash of vivid brightness across the subtle pastels of the forest.
"Never was much for grass," he commented, coming to a stop through the treeline and across the grass just a few feet away from Freyr's head. Xochipilli loomed over the sprawled-out god, grinning down at him, his feathered crown askew, as always. "Dirt, now, I'm comfortable with that. Vines. Maybe even a mushroom or two. But grass? You're certainly making an argument for it."
A smile gleamed in Freyr's eyes even before they were fully open. His head tipped backward, his amber gaze found Xochipilli's, and his grin grew at the sight of his recent acquaintance. He patted the earth beside him, and the gentle rustle of thick grass answered. "Come and join me," he said. "The benefits will become readily apparent."
He let his head fall back where it had been, though he scooted slightly over, toward a freshly sun-warmed patch of grass not yet crushed by the weight of his body. "I'm pleased you found Álfheimr. You are the first stranger I have seen here. Are you enjoying it?"
Xochipilli made a sound in his throat as he moved to follow Freyr's suggestion. As his view of the world inverted, distorting to make trees swell and shrink, a blue sky hovering over all, he could not say that he was displeased. If he laid a little too close to the other deity, who was to say he was doing anything wrong? One hand moved to make an impromptu pillow behind his head, the other resting on his belly; an elbow brushed against Freyr's, the warmth of him enough to feel even at a small distance.
"I am, very much so," he finally replied once he was settled. "It's not often I get to see new sights and places. Did you yet tell your supplicants of my land and my people?" His head tilted to the side, a twinkle in his eye as he searched Freyr's profile.
"I did," Freyr answered. "They were very curious about it all, particularly the food. And the alcohol, of course." He chuckled. "An important part of any cultural exchange. I explained as best I could." His head lolled to one side, his gaze wandering over Xochipilli's colorful, off-kilter headdress for a moment before alighting on his face once more. "It's not the same as indulging, of course, but they made do. Now that you're here, though… perhaps we could have a feast for them. And you the guest of honor, naturally."
A broad grin spread over Xochipilli's face toward the tail end of Freyr's last sentence.
"Naturally," he agreed, rolling onto his side to better examine the other deity from a fresh angle. His headdress fell over his eyes, and Xochipilli solved the matter by removing it, setting it on the grass nearby. Then he propped his head up on one hand, gazing down at Freyr, his eyes moving from the man's face down and back up without hesitation.
"And what," he continued, his free hand coming over to skirt along Freyr's upper arm, fingertips light along the other deity's skin, "would you present to me, at such a feast? I'm sure there must be much to offer." As he spoke, twin shadows moved over the pair; brightly colored, blue winged butterflies, each as large as a face, appearing from the trees to flit over the grass.
"All that you offered me," Freyr answered. With apparent hesitation he pulled his gaze from Xochipilli's face. He tracked the uneven path of the butterflies, stretching out one hand toward them, coaxing them to land. The lean arm Xochipilli touched remained beside him; though Freyr called no attention to it, he shifted closer to that touch, seeking it out with a slight press of one body to another. "Food and mead, song and dance. Travelers here are so rare, we should spare no expense or effort for our celebration."
Xochipilli's hand pressed down harder, seeking muscle under skin. The path it trod moved higher, and lower, extending from Freyr's wrist to his shoulder, brushing his collarbone as the deity tested how far he could push this liberty. Freyr's continued stillness beneath that exploration was surely answer enough.
"I would very much like to try this mead," he replied, nodding at Freyr's offer. "Song and dance, too, that sounds...appealing." It was very clear, however, what exactly he found appealing, but he kept this unspoken desire to himself for the moment. "When will this feast occur? I'm not completely sorry to say, but patience isn't my strong suit, though I certainly don't have anywhere better to be."
Freyr smiled. "Whenever you like," he said. "It is a simple thing to gather friends and food and drink. I would not keep a welcome guest waiting. Hospitality is very important to me." His eyes followed the soft lines of Xochipilli's mouth. It took no great leap of logic to read in his expression the full breadth of Freyr's thoughts. Even so, he pressed closer, a friendly challenge on his sun-kissed face. "Of course, if there is something you would care to see of my kingdom beforehand, you only have to ask."
"In words?" Xochipilli moved forward, leaning down to bring the mouth Freyr's eyes had been studying to the other man's shoulder, his breath a warm gust on hot flesh. His lips followed the path his hands had traced, pressing gently against tender skin. His eyes moved to stay connected to Freyr's gaze, the grass underneath him rolling and crunching with his movements. "Or can I ask in other ways?" That same wandering hand moved down over Freyr's chest, cresting over ridges of muscle.
"You certainly can," Freyr answered, with laughter in his voice. His hands moved, tracing heat and light along gold-hued skin. His eyes lowered to the flesh he touched, his gaze betraying more hunger than his fingers allowed. He followed the lines of one brilliant tattoo. He had seen nothing of its like before Xochipilli; his own flesh was blank, and his own people had done no more than blue woad, from time to time. They were beautiful, as was the god who bore them, and Freyr found himself inexorably drawn to this loveliness. He raised his head from the grass, dark hair falling over his eyes as he pressed his lips to one perfectly etched flower.
Xochipilli pulled back, eager to let the other man explore. As he did so, Xochipilli brushed a hand through the other man's thick hair, his eyes half-lidded at the small touch. The movement brought a remembrance to mind.
"Ah, before," he said, stroking Freyr's head again, reaching down to the other man's nape and hooking his fingers there, "when you visited. You said you'd show me the sacraments your people used to pray to you. Would that be a fair request to ask for, now?" The smile on his face tempered, smoldering, staring down into a twin pair of amber eyes that he did not want to look away from.
The shift from playful to something more was a subtle one, and Freyr felt every fiber of his being respond. His tongue traced a spiralling vine upward from bicep to shoulder. He moved to his knees, pushing Xochipilli backward as he did. "It would." His teeth skimmed over one hard clavicle; Xochipilli grunted, the sound half stunted by incisors sinking into his bottom lip. Freyr's hands moved to his waist, warm fingers fitted against the soft leather of his guest's clothing.
"They bring me offerings. In many forms." His voice was a soft reverberation over tanned skin, punctuated with the press of smiling lips. The scent of freshly baked bread, of frothing mead and warm meat, carried to them on the wind. Behind them a small altar had appeared, laid out with cups and plates bearing these humble gifts. There was music, too: the chiming of bells, soft as the wind through the trees around them. But all this was lost as Freyr moved Xochipilli beneath him, their mouths meeting in a breathless crush. Freyr's tongue slid past his lips, tasting him, exploring.
Xochipilli returned the kiss with equal fervor, happy to weigh this gift with careful thought and testing. His hands slid up Freyr's back, over the small slip of cloth covering the other deity, his own form curving and rising to meet the man now stretched out over him. His touch urged the other man forward, down, onto him, clearly wanting more and begging for it through his hands.
"You must be," he said between gasps and continued liplock, "a very popular divinity," he remarked, one side of his mouth curving. He heard the sounds of the feast made up, a simple thought pulled together by his host, but Xochipilli appreciated far more the other niceties he was being offered instead. He laid back down on the grass, pulling Freyr with him, urging those brown legs over his waist, fingers thumbing along the waist of the cloth still covering the other man. His own arousal was already burgeoning through his loincloth, visible to the eye and to the hand, but Xochipilli wanted to sate other desires first before reaching the main course.
Freyr responded with a smile and a flick of his tongue over the seam of his guest's lips. He moved where Xochipilli bid, his knees pressing into soft grass and warm earth on either side of the god's hips. Golden cloth unwound and fell away, pooling around them, draping itself over lean, hard limbs. His hands pressed flat to Xochipilli's chest, thumbs tracing the lines of bone and muscle beneath. One fingertip traced the taut peak of one nipple, a teasing to match the gleam in his eye.
Each kiss moved slowly downward: the sharp angle of Xochipilli's jaw, the column of his throat, the subtle ridge of his sternum. "And what offering," Freyr asked, "did you bring me?"
Xochipilli barked a laugh. "Is my presence not a present enough?" He teased, his hands running over Freyr's back as the other deity moved over him. Each touch drew out a small, appropriate moan or catch of breath, Xochipilli's head turning down enough to watch Freyr's movements. Fingertips lost purchase on hips, moving over ribcage, nails lightly tracing over the skin.
One hand laced fingers with Freyr's, pulling it up to his mouth for a moment to press lips to the wrist's interior, before guiding it down along his side to his groin, his half-hard member pulsing beneath leather as it reacted to the feel of warm hands above it. "How is that, for a start?"
Freyr could not help but tease in return. "It will do," he said, "for a start." His fingers slipped under the line of cloth, tracing Xochipilli's length. The other god's breath caught, trapped in his throat. Gingerly Freyr's fingers moved around him, drawing tighter by slow degrees, the pass of his thumb over tender flesh growing firmer with every stroke. His lips pressed to the flat of Xochipilli's belly, his tongue flicking out into his navel. As he teased with teeth and tongue his hands moved to the ties of his loincloth, pulling them apart, casting leather aside with a practiced motion. And still he drew out each small pleasure, writing his intentions on warm flesh with each press of his mouth, every slide of his fingers over flushed skin.
Xochipilli's body writhed under Freyr's warm, knowledgeable touch. Hips rose, carrying the man laying on him up, and then down like lungs drawing a breath. His hands rested on Freyr's shoulders, one tracing over smooth, comfortable skin at Freyr's nape, then his hair, nails digging lightly. He had no shame as he voiced his satisfaction with Freyr's caress.
"Whatever it is you'd like from me," he said, voice low and rough, "is yours for the taking, if you keep going like that."
Freyr's grin pressed soft to the inside of Xochipilli's thigh. One long, slow breath passed warm over Xochipilli's arousal; then Freyr took him in his mouth, tracing his shape with the flat of his tongue. His hands circled muscular thighs, nails scratching lightly over colorful tattoos. It was clear in every motion that Freyr enjoyed bestowing gifts as much as receiving them; his tongue passed hungrily over tender flesh as he drank in the taste of his new partner, this visitor to his most holy place. A smile danced in his eyes as he looked up to Xochipilli's face, watching him as he gripped him tightly, as he took him fully in.
Xochipilli rested on one elbow to better watch Freyr at his work; his hips canted up, his mouth slack with desire as half-lidded eyes watched his member disappear into the other deity's mouth. As Freyr reached his base, his head tilted back, unable to suppress a low groan that signaled approval of all the other deity was doing. The hand still on Freyr's nape moved over his head again, tugging lightly at hair there, pressing him down harder where he was swallowing his growing arousal. His hips jerked up faintly, but he held himself still for the most part, wanting to give the reins to his partner in this dance.
"Ah, I may never want to, ah, leave here, if that's what you're driving at," he murmured again, a soft smile on his lips.
Freyr's low laughter vibrated through tender flesh; he smiled around Xochipilli's length, wrote his approval on his skin with the tip of his tongue. He laved his length as he pulled away, slick lips grinning still. "You are quite welcome," he said, then pressed his head down again. He continued in this way for some time, only to rise at last and crawl up the length of his partner's body. "But surely you want something more," he said; Xochipilli's free hand reached out, wrapping eagerly around Freyr's nape as though he would draw the other deity closer himself. Freyr kissed Xochipilli, hungry and deep, promising and demanding all at once. One hand curled around his thigh, raising his leg against Freyr's side.
"Oh, want is too soft of a word," Xochipilli grinned back into Freyr's touch, his mouth working at Freyr's with equal fervor. The hand on Freyr's nape moved to the back of the man's head, holding tight amid hair and flesh, hips rising against the feel of the other deity's legs around his. Finally, he sat up, wrapping arms around the thinner being seated atop him, holding him tight as his eyes moved over Freyr's face. "I demand something more, I crave it like a pit longing to be filled." He caught Freyr's mouth, tongue sliding along the deity's lower lip before following it with teeth. One hand slid down Freyr's back, curving over his taut ass, fingers prodding deeper until he found the tight hole between. Pressing a finger to it, he kissed Freyr again, his tongue surging over the other deity's in a vividly physical description of his words.
Freyr smiled as he opened his mouth to that demanding press. He settled closer atop Xochipilli's lap. With a roll of his hips the golden, gauzy cloth fell entirely away, pooling around them as it drifted to the grass below. His arms circled Xochipilli's shoulders; his nails scratched over tattoos and sun-drenched flesh, committing each to tactile memory. His hands moved lower, tracing the firm muscle of his arms, the hard lines of his ribs. They wandered lower still, until his touch came to rest at sharp hip bones. After one small kiss he pulled away, smiling as his gaze met Xochipilli's. Without a word he pressed back against that light touch, opening himself to Xochipilli's hand.
Fingers pressed into the other deity, Xochipilli moaning at the feel of Freyr's flesh pulling tight around him. The other deity's hard member pressed between their stomachs, his own twitching from the sensory overload of tactile impressions. His other hand kept tight around Freyr's form, holding the deity close. Grass under him was a sweet smell; a breeze moved over them, everything combining to heighten the sensation. If this was Freyr's magic, Xochipilli could see himself partaking as often as the other deity would allow. Once more, twice, he pressed into the other god, as deep as he could feel; then he drew his hand back, bringing it to his lips as he made a long, slow show of sucking his fingers in, wetting them.
Then they returned, slicking the entrance he'd been preparing. His face lingered close to Freyr's, mouth hovering over the other god's lips. "Is this what you enjoy most? I'm surprised you have the energy to travel as you do, if this is how you receive your supplicants."
"Ordinarily…" Freyr's breath caught in his throat. A playful grin pressed against Xochipilli's mouth. "They receive me. If they are well and truly blessed, of course." He drew Xochipilli's lower lip between his teeth, sucking at that swell. His hips rolled, grinding him down onto his hand, spreading him wider with each downward stroke. Still his eyes remained open, fixed on his partner's face, drinking in the sight of him as they enjoyed one another.
"This is a rare gift," he said, "from one god to another." A teasing grin curved his lips as he kissed his divine visitor once again. He shifted, his body fitting close to Xochipilli's own. His arousal pressed flush to the other god's belly; his entrance, opened by gentle exploration, rested just above Xochipilli's length. "You welcomed me into your home. Now I welcome you into mine."
Xochipilli needed no more invitation; with one hand, he pressed himself to Freyr's entrance, pushing inside with a slow, gentle movement. His mouth caught Freyr's at the same time; his tongue remained contained, his lips holding Freyr's mouth as he possessed him in other ways. He groaned, the throaty sound moving through him and into the deity in his arms; and then he was sheathed to his groin, held tight. Xochipilli's guiding hand moved to cup Freyr's ass again, sliding over smooth skin as his mouth pulled back.
"Ah, and such a welcome," he replied, before he pulled back and sank into the god once more. His face tipped forward, pressing to Freyr's forehead.
Freyr met that touch with a kiss and a tightening of his hands on hard hips. He rose, his own hips rolling as he did, and pushed back down once more. His legs wrapped tighter around Xochipilli's waist, drawing him fully in. He fell silent, then, save for soft sounds of pleasure as his body met this new one--familiar in ways he could not explain, a secondhand memory stolen from someone else--and entwined together. Again he moved, drawing his body tight around the other god's length, lust-darkened eyes heavy-lidded as he watched the tawny, tattooed shape beneath him.
Xochipilli kept a careful, regular pace, counting out the seemingly long moments between thrusts; the space of time where he existed without Freyr, and then within. Fingers pressed hard enough to bruise, leaving a print on the other god's backside; one stray thought wondered at how long such a thing might last, and then another reminded him that such a person was not owned in that way. But he felt possessive all the same of this stranger, as though there were things that belonged only to him. Instead, he focused on mounting his own pleasure, widening and stretching it, passing it through Freyr so they both might enjoy it.
With a turn, he put Freyr down onto the soft bed of grass below them, keeping their connection as he did so. Then he pressed anew, striking harder and deeper than before. Freyr groaned aloud, then, and raised his legs to wrap more tightly around Xochipilli's waist. With each new thrust his nails dug into warm flesh, carving his want into the shape above him. He breathed the god's name, and smiled at the feel of it on his tongue.
Leaning upward, he kissed Xochipilli, canting his hips to accept the next deep thrust. His tongue pushed over the god's in time with the rhythm of Xochipilli's hips. He let one hand drift downward, between their rolling bodies, to take his untended arousal in hand. He stroked himself as Xochipilli entered him, and moaned, unabashed, as he felt himself filled. Xochipilli pressed his face into the side of Freyr's neck, breathing in the other deity's scent as he felt himself crest on the lip of an orgasm.
"Tell me," he said roughly, into Freyr's skin, his beard and his breath carving the words into the other deity's skin, "tell me when. Tell me you're close." Each tremble from Freyr beneath him was a gift, but Xochipilli wanted more.
His voice on Freyr's skin sent a new shiver down his spine. His free hand clutched at Xochipilli's shoulder; he stroked himself with renewed vigor. A soft wind caressed them, its passage over their skin marked by the quiet chiming of his worshippers' bells. "Harder," he breathed, bucking into the next deep thrust. His hand twisted between them. His back arched over the grass, bowing his body beneath his partner's. He shuddered once more. Breathing hard, he pressed mouth to Xochipilli's hair, gasping aloud as his climax approached. "I'm--"
Xochipilli let himself go, allowing that tight, dark curl of energy in his groin loose through his body with another thrust. He groaned into Freyr's throat, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm; he pressed again, once, twice, before coming to a slow stop, hovering over the deity's form beneath him. The smell of food on the altar behind them wakened new appetites, but he did not make to draw away from the first course just yet.
Satisfied and shaking, Freyr wrapped himself around the god above him. The bare sole of one foot slid up over Xochipilli's calf; his hand left his softening length between them, trailing lines of cooling come over their bellies. He turned his head and caught Xochipilli's mouth with his own. He kissed him deeply, his tongue sliding between smiling lips to claim him once more. His hands slid up the hard, sweat-damp plane of Xochipilli's back.
"Well," he said, his voice warm and rough. "I am grateful for your offering, Xochipilli. And quite glad you found your way back to me."
"As am I," the Aztec replied, moving enough so he was kneeling over the other deity. He did not wish to move, or to be absent so warm a caress so soon, but there was time to take more later. Instead, he leaned back, pulling Freyr up with him until they were both sitting close together in the grass. Hands and hips were still pressed tight, fingers taking little touches here and there. "Now, I believe there was some mention of food? I think I'm hungry enough to eat a whole person," he grinned, a hand moving up to run a knuckle over Freyr's cheekbone.
Freyr chuckled, tipping his head into Xochipilli's hand. "I cannot accommodate that," he said, "but we have meat and mead enough. And if that fails to satisfy, we can always return to our earlier pursuits."
He had no desire to leave Xochipilli's side, and so he did not; instead the altars came to them, an arm's reach away from where they sat pressed close together in the grass. Freyr stayed near as he reached for seared meat and cold cups, watching his guest with sleepy-lidded eyes. He held a still steaming bite of meat to Xochipilli's lips, a smile on his own.
Xochipilli's mouth opened easily, his tongue reaching out to help pull the offered morsel between his teeth. It was so different from the food he was used to; tougher, somehow even tart. He did not dislike it. As he chewed, he nodded, his lips stretching out in a smile.
"I think I will be here for some time, with so much to sample," he commented as he swallowed, his hands lingering on Freyr's form. As the wind continued to blow, cooling them from their earlier exertions, Xochipilli made sure to sample everything Freyr's altar had to give, before other appetites renewed themselves.