grandhighwizard | You gotta trust your mastermind

You gotta trust your mastermind

These things had to be done right. Playing with someone was a pleasant distraction, and like many things in Rhys's life, it was a mixture of spur of the moment decision (he'd certainly never intended to start pursuing the Ancient Runes professor, no matter what he looked like, until he idly needled the man and found out how fascinatingly easy he was to poke) and careful planning to get exactly what he wanted.

So he prepared the herbal tea mixture quite carefully. Blueberry-pomegranate he could do - he had seeds and infusions, and a few black tea leaves, and just a pinch of this and that, all put in a nice little tea ball. It was a tasty mix, with the added benefit that it would render the drinker rather open to suggestion. Not ridiculously so, but just enough that the person would be more willing than usual to go along with requests. Which was just what Rhys needed - Onikous might be oblivious to some things, but best to take no chances. He wanted the younger man thinking this was all his idea.

That morning in the Great Hall, he made sure to get to breakfast in plenty of time to sit down next to the Rune professor, setting a cup of hot water next to the man, and the tea ball dropped gently into the mug, as he settled into his own chair.

"Try that. I made it with you in mind, and I'd like to see if it suits. I can always tweak the formula, if you don't like it."

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"You could have asked me to go to your room with you." That's the first thing that went through Cyrus's mind as Rhys stood up. He felt like a child again. But in a way he was a child next to Rhys. How old again...? Well over twenty years older, he knew that--oh god. He felt the blood stir between his legs again and he allowed the little squeak of a gasp release from his mouth, thanks to the feeling of himself rubbing against part of Rhys's torso.

And then he caught a glimpse of the paintings and Cyrus felt himself getting a bit nervous now. Not anxious, but nervous. But before he could react, he was on his back, lying on Rhys's bed, gazing up at him, nearly bewildered at this point.

Gazing down at the younger man, Rhys felt a surge of dark satisfaction. Yes, this was what he'd intended when he'd invited Cy here. He was going to get exactly what he wanted, and give the other professor something to remember him by, even if he could never talk him into this again.

The Potions professor pulled the linen tunic over his head, revealing his own broad chest, black hair curling against the pale skin. He wasn't built like someone who worked out, but there was no denying the power in his frame, the muscle beneath the skin, and ... something else, too. A faint wash of color, some sort of design that seemed to dance just below the surface, like his veins, and then was gone. Teeth flashed in his smile, and then nimble fingers were at the button of Cy's trousers, deftly undoing it, pulling the zip down, then the trousers themselves, baring the younger man smoothly.

Needless to say, Cyrus wasn't entirely unprepared for this at this point. However, he did lift an arm to cover his eyes once Rhys started to strip. It was a means of trying to have common decency. He was still relatively blind, and he murmured something along the lines of Rhys being comfortable with his body to be that willing to undress. But before he could really make the words any louder, he nearly squeaked as his pants were removed from his body--and his hands went to cover himself up rather poorly.

The man's slender wrists were grabbed quite neatly, and his hands pulled away from his groin, exposing him once more to Rhys's greedy eyes. He was taking in everything, the way the man lay, the totality of his naked body, his skin, and his cock.

"I didn't tell you you could cover up, did I?" he asked sternly - he'd been noticing how Cy seemed to respond to a voice of authority, and found it fascinating, something he was willing to play with. Rhys, after all, could have a very authoritative voice when he wanted to. Being on the Wizengamot had ensured that.

Cyrus went still once Rhys pulled his hands away, but he did squirm just enough to try and cover himself up so the other man might not get as much of a look at him as he already had. He felt a breath hitch in his throat and stared towards Rhys from the corner of his bi-colored eyes.

"Th-there." he said, finally giving up in regards to hiding himself. "I'm not moving."

Smiling, Rhys released the other man's wrists. "No. You're not. Good boy."

The tip of one long finger was pressed to the head of Cy's cock, just at the divot in the crown, then drawn slowly, slowly down the length of it, all the way to the root, where it circled and slid up the other side, right back to the tip.

"Pretty little thing ... "

And like that, Cyrus paled and his chest and back forced him to arch upwards just a tiny bit now. He inhaled sharply, trying to avoid gasping at the tingle that began to rocket through him. It was not something he was expecting...At least not yet. But the groan escaped him, and instantly, his entire face--and then some--was flushed pale pink with surprise.

Slowly, Rhys's finger circled the head of the younger man's cock, lazy circles that spiraled from the slit to the crown and then back up. Each touch was light, teasing, and then the Potions professor pressed the very tip of his finger against the slit once more, pushing just inside it - not far, no more than a millimeter or two would fit - but enough to be felt. And then his hand was gone, his palm and fingers smoothing over the concave plane of Cy's stomach, up his chest, then down his thighs. The older man's big hands swept over bare skin, stimulating, dancing lightly, learning the smaller man's body in brushes of his hands.

His body arched gently as Rhys's fingers ran along him, feeling the chill run up and down his spine in a moment. He could already feel his fingers grasping somewhat at the bedding around him. The tug of nerves that came from the finger pressing into the slit caused Cyrus to vocalize again, jaw going slack momentarily.

And then, the halfblood relaxed quickly, laying flat on the mattress again, already panting softly.

The older man's hands were soothing, stroking up and down, all the way to Cy's neck, then down to his knees, like Rhys was smoothing a sheet on a mattress. That is until they ran up the inside of the Runes professor's thigh, inexorably pushing the other man's legs open. Until his fingers found the soft sac between those legs, petted over it, gently rolled testicles between thumb and forefinger, pressed just underneath into the sensitive skin of the younger man's perineum, massaging the muscle there, playing with the most intimate parts of Cy as though he had the right to them.

Cyrus sank into the mattress, melting from the sheer warmth that had overcome him. His fingers gave a tug to the sheets, as it began to dawn on him just how much he actually needed this. Another gasp in response, deciding he was loving the nimble and delicate way Rhys's fingers glided over his flesh. The softest hint of an affirmative, a "yes" so to speak, drifted lazily from Cyrus's mouth, as his eyes fluttered shut again.

Edited 2012-03-27 05:06 (UTC)

Rhys smiled languidly as his young companion started to relax, to allow himself to enjoy it. He hooked his hands uunder Cy's knees, lifting and pulling the other professor's legs apart, so that they were slightly bent and his feet were flat on the mattress. Then he moved himself to kneel between the younger man's spread legs, and started stroking up and down Cy's inner thighs, along the back of them, too, down to the curve of his ass, where his fingers traced the scant line of muscle. Then back up, firmly, along the crease where thigh met groin, rubbing at the borders of dark pubic hair ... and then playing the tips teasingly light over Cy's prick again, tracing the length, swirling over the head.

Yes, he was indeed relaxed at this point and he allowed his body to slowly curve and wriggle in response to Rhys's hands running over his body. He was remaining quiet--no where near as vocal as before--as he started to just lose himself in the simple idea of being touched. Rhys didn't even need to be stroking between his legs to cause his entire body to flare up. He just gasped softly, lightly tugging at the sheets, savoring the moment.

There was a rhythm to the touches - Rhys would go from cock, to some other section of Cy's body, back to his cock again. He covered thighs, stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, and between each he came back to stroke the younger man's prick, or balls, or just behind, drawing everything out and out, taking his time.

Finally, he got to the Runes professor's face, tracing his cheekbones, his jaw, his chin, eyebrows, ears, fingers through his hair, and finally down to his mouth. The pads of his thumbs rubbed lightly over Cy's upper, then lower lip, before he pressed one forefinger past them, into the other man's mouth.

"Suck."

His eyes had been closed, or half lidded for nearly the entire rub down, and he'd forgotten he existed for a moment. He had been lost somewhere in space, with just the buzzing of nerves and excitement flowing through him. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his face that he felt himself starting to crash down to earth.

His eyes opened slowly, gazing at Rhys with a hazy sort of film over his vision as he found the finger in his mouth. And yet, he didn't hesitate, and he allowed darkness to settle in over his eyes once more--and he began to suck.

Rhys let him for a moment, just watching the younger man's lips closed around his finger with a pleased smirk. And then he added a second, working both slowly in and out of Cy's mouth, pushing them deep and then withdrawing to just the tips, before doing it again, mock fucking the other professor's mouth lazily. He wondered how his prick would look in there.

Well, time enough to find that out, if the way Cy seemed to be enjoying himself was any indicator. It was clear the poor boy needed to be laid properly, and had been for awhile.

Cyrus wasn't aware of it, but he was letting out wanton little moans as the fingers moved in and out of his mouth. And if one were to look closely, there was a hint of a smile on his lips as the digits gestured back and forth, and his tongue danced between them. Soft, but heavy little breaths forced their ways past the fingers and past his lips, indicating just how eager he was.

"Lovely," Rhys murmured approvingly, and he pulled his fingers free, painting some of the saliva across Cy's lower lip. He replaced the fingers soon enough with the ones on his left hand, pumping in and out, in and out lewdly. His right hand dropped to the younger man's prick, however, and he used his spit slicked fingers to languidly stroke the hard shaft, from root to tip.

Breath caught in his throat as he tried to continue giving metaphorical head to Rhys's fingers. He hadn't expected the man to grasp him so quickly. This time, the motions of his tongue were jerky, slower--distracted. The rest of him was too absorbed in the heavy, but liquid heat that Rhys was igniting by beginning to jerk him off.

And then the big man was looming over him, hand still working his cock. Rhys leaned on one elbow, so he could keep his fingers in Cy's mouth while still being directly above him, almost pressed skin to skin. His long, dark curls brushed over the slender man's shoulder and throat as the Potions professor leaned in even further, put his lips to Cy's ear.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" Long fingers suddenly squeezed tight at the base of the younger man's cock. "You like doing this, with that beautiful mouth."

If he had the chance to bite his lip, he would have. If he had the chance to really moan for the man, he would have. If he had had the opportunity to shut him up and jam his tongue in Rhys's mouth? He would have. Cyrus raised his hips, head rolling to the side as his tongue still awkwardly ran against the man's fingers.

The sound he made was affirmative, letting him know that he had an oral fixation that Rhys was doing a splendid job at satisfying.

Laughing, low and pleased, and just this side of mocking, vibrated against Cy's ear. "No wonder you're so popular, my boy," Rhys murmured, as he added another finger to the two thrusting in and out of his companion's mouth. "Do you suck cock just as well?"

Even if he did want to answer, it was nearly impossible as the third finger caused Cyrus to choke a bit at the sudden intrusion. He just groaned against the fingers as he tried to remain relaxed, allowing his tongue to flick gently at the undersides of each digit that continued their exploration.

Rhys pinched his tongue playfully, then released it, allowing the younger man to keep licking for a few moments, before pulling them out again, resting them on Cy's bottom lip as he gave the Runes professor's cock a few firmer strokes.

"Answer the question, boy."

Cyrus finally opened his eyes, and gazed at Rhys with a rather dumbfounded look on his face. His mind was clouded, and he couldn't remember what the question was. But after it hit him, he licked his lips, and swallowed somewhat harshly. Cyrus's head rolled to the other side, shuddering from the older man's hand on his cock.

"I-I wouldn't know..." he said softly. "I-I've never given..."

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