Fan-fiction · Fire Emblem · Masculine Passion · PAIRINGS:

Fire Emblem: A Friendly Competition

Haven’t done any M/M scenes in an age, but thank you again to my patreon @iavenjqasdf for requesting it. It’s not so bad to flex your boy muscles, once in a while! :3

As always, you can support me by going to read this over at Archive of Our Own, I appreciate comments, I am available for commissions currently via my Patreon, and you can find me on twitter, tumblr, curious cat. All sorts of places! ❤

“No take backs,” Innes said.

Ephraim grinned, already undoing his belt. “No take backs.”

“Whoever cums first loses.”

“Or wins.”

Innes ducked his head with a sly smile. “Perhaps both.”

“Either way, when I win, you’re calling me milord for a week.”

Their trousers pooled around their ankles, and, despite the sudden abundance of hard, ready cock in the palatial bedroom, there was still the question of…

Ephraim blushed, just a tad, and tilted his head. “So… how do we do this?”

With a huff, Innes approached. “Guess that means I’ll be on top.”

Hand against Ephraim’s chest, Innes laid him down into the plush carpet at the foot of the royal bed. They stacked upon each other like cordwood. Muscle against muscle, arms over legs, knees cocked. Both bodies sang with the aroma of soap, and the mildness of sweat in the midday heat after their shared bath, which is where Innes had suggested this ludicrous… contest.

Innes squirmed, and his cock drew a thin, sticky line over Ephraim’s pecs as his body lounged, relaxing into Ephraim’s below it. The cock before his lips lunged, an involuntary shiver passing through it with the wet, warm waft of his breath. But that wasn’t his goal. The rules were very specific. One target, one technique, whoever cums first loses. He leaned in. Ephraim’s head bucked up behind him. Reciprocal warmth, Ephraim’s lips grazing over Innes’s sac—crinkled, warm and ready—as they passed, seeking Ephraim’s true quarry.

With a shared gasp, each kissed the other’s entrance.

Pulsing jerks of sudden motion; the galvanization of impassioned bodies. Cocks slid against stomachs with urgency as each grabbed the thighs of the other and leaned in, testing their sparring partner with the jabbing of ardent tongues. Moans of shared urgency rippled through the bedchamber. Innes’s elbows ground into the carpet as he asserted his place atop Ephraim with a stern yank of thighs. Ephraim whimpered, arching his back in submissive posture, seeking more friction than their sweat-dappled bodies could offer. They traded swipes of tongue and kiss of lips against heated flesh. They dug fingers into muscle to hold on to one another, to assert their place. Ephraim jostled beneath Innes, rolling his hips, his buttocks clenching. Innes grunted with satisfaction. This was done, he’d prove himself the victor momentarily—

Suddenly, Ephraim’s tongue moved in a flurry, sweeping sweet and moist over crinkled flesh, applying pressure. Ephraim’s body flexed upwards, sandwiching Innes’s cock, providing the perfect receptacle for Innes’s foolish, frenzied rutting. Innes struggled to riposte, jabbing, jousting his tongue with Ephraim’s asshole as his cock tingled and begged for its freedom. It grew numb with wanton need, stimulated past the point of sensitivity, almost to pain. He longed to grit his teeth, to muscle through it, but he couldn’t relent. His counterattack was paramount. He couldn’t stop his tongue for even a second, prodding, swiping, licking, tickling, whatever he could do to push Ephraim over the each. Each motion rewarded with a moan. He was winning! If he could just hold on a little longer he’d—

With a thrust worthy of Reginleif, Ephraim’s tongue breached Innes’s defenses, and with a shuddering cry against the warm, consoling flesh of Ephraim’s buttocks, Innes released the torrential spray of his seed between their sticky, grinding bodies.

Ephraim grinned, consoling Innes with a resounding slap against his ass as he broke for a gulp of fresh air. “Cheer up, friend, there’s always next time!”

Innes rolled at the hips, a meager moan as he came back down to earth, the motion smearing the heady, heavily scented mess between both their bodies.

They lay into one another, quaking softly, panting for breath, and embracing each other at the hips, Ephraim making out patterns in the tile ceiling above between the spread of Innes’s legs, Innes dripping sweat to the carpet below between Ephraim’s.

With a squirm, and a smear of the messy spunk between them, Innes inadvertently let slip a moan, and quickly papered over this vulnerability with the harshness of his words. “Mind not stabbing me in the stomach, milord?”

“Oh, no need to be a sore loser about it.” Ephraim responded, offering a secret grin to the ceiling. “Besides, don’t blame me. I didn’t get to cum.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

“W-what?” A sound Ephraim’s throat, part pant, part gasp, as Innes inverted atop him. They were face to face—and cock to cock—for a heartbeat. Just long enough for Innes to smile, brush hair from his eyes, and softly say.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

And then, he descended, suckling a bead of cum from Ephraim’s nipple and layering a trail of kisses down his abdomen as he went.

“Certainly not,” Ephraim said, with a smile, and a run of his hands through Innes’s hair, as his friend engulfed his cock, and the game began anew.

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