WHO Fandral and Eliot WHERE Fandral's cottage WHEN Today, late afternoon/early evening? WHAT Eliot's first lesson in sword fighting STATUS Complete WARNINGS Some glossed over NSFW stuff
When the opportunity to teach someone how to use a sword came up on the network, Fandral immediately jumped at the opportunity, even if teaching it was something he hadn’t done in a very long time and generally, it had been to children -- young Asgardians determined to join the ranks of those who pledged to protect Asgard from any threats. However, it was something Thor had suggested he do here to help alleviate the feeling of uselessness he’d been feeling for quite some time.
Of course, Thor was right; Fandral couldn’t help but realize just how much he was going to enjoy himself doing this.
“Aye! Wonderful,” he said with a laugh, setting his rapier to the side and leaning against the exterior of his cottage. Pulling the end of the shirt he wore up, he quickly wiped the sweat from his face and flashed the other man a grin. “I do not understand why you seemed so convinced that this would not be good. I feel as though you have picked up the basics fairly quickly.” Sure, using a rapier wasn’t like the swords some others in Vallo chose as their weapons, but it was Fandral’s preferred weapon and one he was masterfully skilled in using. Besides, it was a good starting point for those who were new to wielding swords, or so he thought.
“I think that may be enough for today though. What say you, Eliot? We can head into my cottage,” he said with a nod back, gesturing toward the building behind him, “relax for a moment. Have a drink. Whatever it is that you would like to do, hm?”
Eliot was the type that enjoyed watching other sweaty, hard working men. Fandral was certainly no exception to that, but Eliot couldn’t help but worry he looked more like a drowned rat. When did he ever not worry about his appearance? His eyes might have lingered a little when Fandral used the hem of his shirt as a towel.
This hadn’t been a sexy-flirty-thing as much as a work-and-actually-learn thing. He had originally imagined much more banter, but apparently that was mostly a stage fighting thing. Eliot might not have normally made an effort but the idea of getting Margo or someone at the cottage killed because he didn’t know how to pick up a fucking sword worried him. He put in actual effort.
The muscles in his arms and legs and a few other internal organs were already showing signs of protest. Eliot was going to feel this tomorrow.
“Shower?” Eliot said without thinking.
Of course the rapiers they were practicing with were more of the variety one might use in stage combat, though should you hit someone with one hard enough, you would still cause damage. There was just no risk of fatal wounds with these swords, luckily, and Fandral took the one Eliot was holding to put them together and away in a training bag he had managed to find. It was suitable for storage for now, at least.
The way the other man’s eyes had lingered though was not lost on him and once he’d put the rapiers away, he reached both hands up to pull the t-shirt off before letting himself stretch, arms up above his head. Sure, maybe it was to be a little bit of a show off, but there was very little about Fandral that was modest, especially if he knew he had a captive audience.
“A shower?” he repeated, one corner of his mouth twisting into a hint of a smirk before he gestured toward the cottage. The true question would be whether Eliot preferred to take that shower alone or have Fandral join him, and he was certain he already knew the answer to that. “Mm, yes, I believe that can be arranged.” Then he grinned before grabbing the bag and heading around the side toward the front door.
It was hard not to smile back.
Eliot followed Fandral without complaint into the cottage, admiring the view from the back and appreciating just how warm his companion must have been to require him to leave off his shirt. Well, what else could one possibly do?
Eliot’s expression was wistful with a side of mildly anxious. Asgardian meant “of Asgard” as in, not human. He had googled. Alien or god, depending on whoever was doing the writing-- cosmic, in either case.
What if he couldn’t keep up?
Surely, Fandral had taken on the occasional human friend with benefits before, right?
Hopefully?
But then, when had Eliot ever shied away from a potentially, truly terrible idea? Once they were in the cottage, Eliot was a terribly rude guest, pulling his shirt off and… can you believe it? ...Leaving it right there on the floor as he was led to that shower.
Completely awful manners.
There was a moment of quiet as he went to put the practice rapiers away, giving Eliot a moment alone in the sitting room of the cottage, and finding himself pleasantly surprised upon his return. The other man had discarded his own shirt and Fandral took a moment of his own to appreciate the view. He was tall - just barely shorter than himself - and lean, slender, which was quite attractive to him (though truly, most people were) and the more he stood there taking him in, the more he felt compelled to pull him in for a kiss.
But he waited. For now, at least.
“Come along,” he said, gesturing with a nod of his head for the other man to follow him. Though he lived in a cottage, the space was rather comfortable and the bathroom was no exception, especially for a man of his size. He took enough time to turn on the water, making sure it was hot but not scalding, and then doing a quick check that there would be enough towels, he turned and eyed Eliot with a playful grin on his lips. “So, shall I leave you to it, or…?”
“Hm? What was that?” Eliot looked down at Fandral, enjoying each and every small curve of his sculpted stomach, before undoing the front of the Asgardian’s pants with his clever, nimble fingers. “I can’t hear you over the water.”
Well, Fandral could stop him if he wanted, but Eliot managed to shove down any impending performance anxieties and enjoy the view.
So many layers and pads and buckles and then there were the boots. What the hell had they been thinking? Wearing appropriate clothing for sparring. How thoughtless of them.
Look, this was hardly the first time Fandral had been in a situation like this and he wasn’t at all concerned with the amount of clothing he still had on before he could even get into the water. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as Eliot worked to undo his trousers, letting him jerk at the fabric and do as he pleased, quite happy with the view himself. So, no. He wasn’t going to stop him.
He chuckled softly and began to toe himself out of the boots he was wearing - because even if he was going to wear protective footwear for their practice, he knew well enough to keep the laces at least a little loose for instances such as this.
“Oh? Is that so?” he asked, his tone playful before he leaned in to catch the other man’s lips in a heated kiss, one of his hands lifting to cup at the back of his head, fingers disappearing into his hair as he held him close. Of course, he had to play along and broke the kiss moments later with a smile, though he kept close. “You did not need to hear that, did you?”
Eliot was usually the taller, prettier one in the relationship. After returning Fandral’s kiss finding a convenient second wave of energy, he realized he could see the appeal. He liked leaning up into the affection, his hands pulling away at the rest of Fandral’s clothing so he could take him all in.
Asgardians were a very pleasantly proportioned people, Eliot thought.
And though he claimed he didn’t need to hear, Eliot shook his head. Hearing was overrated. They weren’t exactly making conversation. He then closed the distance between them again, this time letting his hands run wild as they pleased to take the taller man all in.
There was plenty about his race that was pleasant to the eye and how he looked naked was only one of them. Or at least that’s what Fandral thought; was he vain? Maybe a little, but could you blame him?
Two thousand and some odd years looked good on him and he knew it.
Conversation could come later if either of them were up to it and as their mouths found one another again, Fandral’s hands moved between them to tug and unzip and push at the fabric of the pants the other man was wearing. They were eager movements and once he had him at least mostly undressed, his hands reached around to firmly grab at his behind, one cheek in each hand, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.
Eliot made an appreciative noise, smiling through the kiss at Fandral’s hands. He was more than happy to direct Fandral into the shower first, making him step backwards as Eliot followed. There was a half hearted attempt to clean up. They each worked equally hard to provide a distraction.
Normally Eliot was the sort that would take the lead in any given amorous situation, but he had also never had a two thousand year old alien for a partner and really wasn’t life about finding new and fun experiences? If Fandral wanted to turn Eliot into his plaything, well, Eliot wasn’t going to complain either. If Fandral was happy to let Eliot have his way with him, on the other hand, the magician was eager to please.
He had no intention of turning anyone into a plaything unless he was asked to. For the moment he was simply content to enjoy the other man; the feel of his flesh under his hands, the taste of his kiss. It all made his senses kick into overdrive and the blood rush from one head to the other.
The shower — if you could call it that — lingered well beyond what a conventional shower ought to have and by the time the water had been turned off, it had started to cool almost to a point of being uncomfortable. Had they actually used soap to wash up? Sure, but not until the last few minutes and even then it was done in a daze.
Fandral threw back the shower curtain and stepped out, dripping wet onto the mat beneath him, his skin flushed from… well, a few different things, not just the water.
He chuckled as he grabbed a towel to run it through his hair, not bothering with the rest of him, and offered one to the other man as well.
Now Eliot was tired.
Two workouts in such quick succession? He probably needed to go home and sleep for the next several hours, but the idea of using his legs or having to think straight enough to cast a portal back to the cottage was too much.
He seemed dazed. And happy. Eliot was only starting to appreciate what Vallo had to offer him. Fandral was preferable to a quest, and there would likely be any number of pleasant distractions along the way.
Eliot just hadn’t seen it until now.
Learning sword fighting. And then, well, sword fighting.
His natural smile, one that Eliot only let slip when he was truly and deeply relaxed, spread ear to ear and Eliot hated seeing it in pictures for fear that it made him look like the simple farm boy from Iowa he pretended not to be. The truth was, it lit up his face pleasantly.
Taking the offered towel, he started to dry himself off while he still had any strength left in his limbs. “Honestly, you’re a very gifted instructor. Do they have Yelp here because the review I could leave…”
He always felt a bit proud when his partners exuded that complete level of exhaustion that barely kept them standing. Or awake, even, depending on the location. This time was no different.
The remark about him being a gifted instructor made him snort in amusement and he raised an eyebrow slightly, though a content grin was on his lips.
“I do not know if Yelp exists here, but considering that would have undoubtedly been very messy anywhere other than the shower, I will take it as a compliment.”
He helped Eliot step out of the tub then and chuckled again softly, moving behind him enough to press a kiss right to the area under his jawline where his pulse point was before he spoke softly near his ear. “If you care to stay, I would be happy to make us something to eat so that you can relax and regain some energy, hm?”
Eliot’s eyes drifted half closed, half pleased from the kiss and half wiped out. Poor thing was barely vertical.
“Post workout naps are a thing on Asgard, right?” he mumbled. His fingers combed through Fandral’s wet hair. Everything about him seemed perfect. If there were any physical fault, Eliot had not found it. The man was an Adonis.
That question amused him too and he kept close, pressing his front against Eliot’s back, one arm loosely wrapping low around his waist and hips to teasingly brush his fingertips at the sensitive area just above his groin.
“No, it was common for us to feast and drink after training.” Then he nipped at Eliot’s earlobe gently, kissing that same spot yet again. “However a rest post-coital was not unheard of.”
Fandral smiled and glanced into the mirror in front of him. “I would apologize for tiring you out so much, but there is nothing that I am sorry for. You are an incredibly beautiful man and I would very much like to bed you again sooner rather than later. Or be bed by you, whichever is your preference.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” Eliot said. Eliot reached up behind him and threaded his fingers through the back of Fandral’s hair. They made a pretty picture, one that Eliot saved in his mind’s eye for later enjoyment.
“Let's take a look at this bed, and we’ll go from there,” Eliot suggested. He turned his head to meet Fandral’s face and kiss him again, this time more softly, appreciatively.
But also, yes, the human was struggling in the best possible way. Eliot was going to feel this tomorrow.
The kiss was returned just as softly as it was given and once it broke, he ducked his head to press one more kiss to the curve of his neck before reaching up behind him to gently take the other’s hand from his hair.
Twisting their fingers together loosely, he led Eliot from the bathroom and around the corner into his bedroom. Again, a surprisingly large space and taken up by a king sized bed (because smaller beds when you were Asgardian just weren’t an option), with a couple other smaller pieces of furniture as well. A dresser, a chair in the corner next to the closet.
Fandral moved to the far side of the bed and climbed onto it, settling on his side and propping his head up with a hand. “You will sleep all too well in this bed, I am sure of it. At least for now.” He grinned and gave Eliot a playful wink.
Eliot barely made it into the bed before his limbs felt heavy and useless. Maybe he needed to work out more. ...Fandral seemed more than happy to work him out plenty.