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“Locke and Cay"

It was the height of a war torn summer, humans versus elves, versus the orccish army that had invaded their homeland. Caymarias Luxxor, rightful heir to the throne of the elvish kingdom stood tall over several men he had felled with a single stroke of his blade, rending four men at once with a powerful stroke of his weapon. He strode into his father's camp, the massive halberd resting on his shoulder as he did so. He was sure that a man of his standing would only receive praises from his father, Highlord Lucien Luxxor. As he drew back the helmet and let it slip from his beautiful, long auburn hair; like that of his mother's, which he wore proudly with braids and decoration as he walked proudly toward the king's tent.

“Wipe that smug smirk off your face."

The stern look from his father immediately took the shine from Cay's proud moment, his face fell slightly with each second of the highlord's scowling, disapproving glare until soon it had sunken to a look of subtle fury that brimmed beneath the surface of his delicate features. “Father..." He stated, his voice falling off.

“And show the respect of an elf, for the Gods' sakes." He said with a gruff, scathing stare as he sat upright. “I have had it with you, this prattling on of being the most famed warrior of our tribe. You're trained yes, but can you truly have the brass?"

“You've raised me to believe there was no equal to us, father."

“That would be my line. You are nothing but a child, Caymarias. A foolish boy whose reckless behavior may see you at the end of an orc's pike. I did not raise you to be overconfident."

“You didn't raise me at all. You sent me away to the furthest reaches of this planet to train in the ways of our people without being man enough to teach me yourself. I learned from strangers, spent years in some school hundreds of miles from here. You did not raise me. Mother had more to do with my upbringing than you--"

Lucien put a hand up, stopping Cay's words on impulse. “This is where we differ, Caymarias." He said with a growl. “You rely on yourself to become this world renowned warrior and first born prince when you have lost sight of who and what you truly are."

Cay scoffed a bit and stared at the man. “I have not lost sight. I am the best warrior. And I am a first born prince. It is my destiny to rule our people, so perhaps instead of chiding me like a little infant, perhaps you start treating me with a bit more respect. Eh?" He crossed his arms over his chest with an air of defiance. “Who in this world could possibly be a more powerful combatant than I am"

“Your confidence is misplaced." His father's tone had so much vitriol and echo that it silenced Cay in an instant. “When will you learn that your skills; no matter how refined, can still be toppled by others."

“When I have found one to better them." Cay replied with a bit of attitude which made Lucien's jaw clench in frustration. He stared at Lucien for several moments before letting out a gasp in frustration. “Very well...then father, who is this warrior you are so confident is my better in battle?" He gestured rather curtly, glaring into Lucien's eyes. “Well?"

Lucien gave a sigh of annoyance before turning and seating himself on his throne. Just as he sat down, the sound of a trumpet bellowing echoed through the halls, causing both men to pause mid-argument to see the approaching figure now making his way step by step from the dark corridor into the more open and well lit throne room. Cay's eyes scaled the armored man before him, slowly taking in the shine of his silver armor, the blue accents the dark, rich curves of the simple etching that only an elf's eyes could admire from the distance. The hulking man was almost three times as thick as he was, nothing about his build was delicate; it was a jagged, well defined mass of muscle as his stare lingered on the man's bare torso. He swallowed in spite of himself as he followed the lines of the man's flesh. At least... was it a man?

Cay noticed the warrior had skin of a subtle grayness to it, it was almost so pale it had to be inhuman, but the trail of white hair beckoned him to stare even more. He followed the large abdomen upward. He wasn't even looking at the jeweled, pristine armor of his gloves or shoulder plates, he only stared at the skin, it's white...silvery hair in a pelt over the flesh, his very very pale flesh. His nipples were exposed, which only brought a flush to the man's cheeks; they were the size of two large coins stacked atop and next to one another, the subtlest hint of sweat glistened over his chest, casting a soft glow from his chest. This man was no vampire, his flesh would be burning in this midday sun; he was no Orc either. They tended to be more green than gray in color. As his eyes completed the journey up the man's chest his beheld his massive, horned silver helmet atop his head. The opening of the face guard was narrow, letting little to no light inside. All he could make out was a pair of sunken blue eyes underneath...and they were staring directly at him. Caymarina quickly shifted his tactic to seem more aloof than he truly was and stood upright, trying to force himself to glance away; he could still feel the man's cold eyes staring him down.

“You must be the one they call “Locke"!" Lucien said as he approached the man and gave a respectful nod to his head.

Lock stood like a gargantuan nearly a head taller than Lucien, who stood at nearly seven feet on his own. Compared to the beastly man, the elves resembled toothpicks in his wake. “I must be." He said with a short, measured tone. “I've never been to these lands before. Beautiful."

Cay let out a scoff that escaped his tongue, earning a sharp glare from his father. An angry glare. After a moment he cleared his throat and straightened up his posture somewhat. “Apologies, good sir. I meant no disrespect; but merely calling our lands... “beautiful" falls a bit short, don't you think?"

“What do you mean?" Locke asked, adding a tilting to his head to his question.

“It's been described as “breathtaking", “stunning", “compared to no other land in the known universe"...to simply call it “beautiful" would be like comparing the beauty of a rose to that of... of a weed." He said softly, his hands gliding along his long hair to uniformly sweep it back behind his shoulders.

Locke let out a deep chuckle, acknowledging the prince with a nod. “Well I am more a fan of the lilac myself..." He breathed deep, his chest expanding as even they seemed to tower over the man. “But I see what ya mean... then... I should choose the phrase...breathtakin' then."

“Oh gods! Oh gods! Fuck!"

It had started with a stroll down the corridors to his bedchambers when suddenly Locke's massive hand had grabbed the prince's arm and thrust him to the side, pinning him against the wall. His hands grabbed the large man's massive pectorals and Locke simply grabbed them together between one of his hands and pulled him upright against one of the pillars that lined the hallway, pulling him taut as one hand tore the prince's pants clean off his slim, lithe body. Their interaction started wordlessly, but Cay knew exactly what was coming. He knew what he wanted, and somehow Locke had picked up the hint immediately. He did smell of lilacs as his chest pressed against him and his hands shed the remainder of his clothes, leaving the elf naked. Locke was certainly the aggressor here, his fingers gliding over the elf's long auburn hair before reaching down and clasping his own belt, wrenching it open and exposing his massive, throbbing cock. “How does one get a tool that big to fit in armor so tight?" Cay asked aloud, eliciting a chuckle from Locke.

“Oh I find a way t'make it work..." He said gruffly as he turned Cay around and dragged his thick head lewdly over the elf's tight, round buttocks.

And that was where it had begun, now, Locke was buried all the way to his balls, pummelling his insides like a pike, howling in his ears as he grew faster and faster. Cay was breathless at the hard ramming, his hands clenched to the column, his nails leaving scratches as he tried to breathe, only to have the air pumped out of him again and again. Every slam harder and faster than the one before. Locke was sliding completely out of the elf's hole and then throwing himself into it again even harder. Each one calling a cry of “Fuck!" from its recipient. Cay's leg was lifted so high now that his knee was practically level with his ears, and somehow still there was room for more. He felt the jagged tug of Locke's massive hand grabbing against his scalp, pulling at his hair, his gruff voice getting louder and louder as he rapidly approached his climax. “Hnnnhh!!!" He grunted loud enough for his voice to echo.

“B-by the gods...!" Cay managed to utter before a sudden, thick flood began to pour deep into him. The pumps from the massive man grew louder and wetter as flesh slapped against flesh, the massive body trembling as he poured spurt after spurt of seed into him. His growling echoing in that strangely dark helmet of his until his cock popped out of the elf. “AHHH!" Cay howled out his pleasure, the sudden release causing a sudden explosion of his own as semen began to slap wetly against his own body and drip all over him.

“Mmm look'it the mighty prince turned to a pool full of jelly. I think I'm going to enjoy taking my time with you tonight."

Locke's arm wrapped tightly around the slender prince's body and carried him as if he weighed nothing, back toward their rooms for a night of incredible passion.

***

Cay sighed as he placed his quill back into its cup and his eyes poured over the papers he had just penned. The dull lighting from outside the window had cast its shadows across his desk, and as his fingers thumbed through the pages he placed a hand on his head, resting his fingers against the naked scalp in frustration.

Eighty years... give or take a decade. That was how long had passed since he'd last seen Locke, and while he still had the immortal graces of any elf, the human half of him had taken its toll. He looked up into the reflection staring back at him in the mirror. He was almost unrecognizable from how he spied himself in his youth; scant patches of his once lustrous auburn hair still lingered atop his head, but most of it had receded to the back, and had grown impossibly long as it draped down as far as his backside. He stared at his body that had grown fat and restless during his life. He'd had many lovers, both men and women; one of whom he had married and had a daughter with. They were no longer there, they'd left only two summers before, seeking solace in the human world. And he'd let them go; he did not know why, elven law dictated much more would be needed to properly part bonds. But he didn't really care. He opened the window to let in a cool breeze, letting it wash over his plump features as he stared out and down into the city streets. He'd watched the passers by down below, continuing their lives, completely unaware of his own and the troubles that still plagued him to this day. He sighed and looked back at the stack of papers he had written; the story of Cay and Locke, simply fluttering in the cool breeze now escaping inwards from the crisp afternoon air. He let a single breath fall from his nostrils; he remembered who he was at one point. And as he looked at his plump, round, almost human body, his temper began to flare up again. What a fall from grace, what a pitiful man. It was a blessing Lucien was not around to see this, who knew where that man had gone and as memories of him began to flood in, Cay worked up a loud growl and grabbed the last stack of pages, crumpling and tearing them up before throwing them haphazardly to the wind.

“FUCK!" He roared in frustration as he seated himself again with an angry grunt and thrust his hands into the palms of his hands.

“My king! What is the matter?"

He turned an eye to the door before realizing that his footman had been outside the whole time. Sucking his pride into a single deep breath, Cay approached the door and opened it to reveal the lion-like man standing behind it, his body rigid at attention. “Reginald...please tell me truthfully...were I the man I once was--"

“But you are already a great man, sir." He responded, but his voice stopped as Cay put a hand up.

“Were I the man I once was, would you respect me more? Would you dare look me in the eye as I spoke? I don't remember my father ever once looking you in the eye as I do."

“No. No sire." He shook his head. “I am not worthy of the respect you show me, my king. Sometimes standing on equal grounds, it...it unnerves me. I am not used to it."

“Reginald." He spoke, straightening the cuff of his jacket nonchalantly.

“Yes sire?"

“Do fetch my traveling coat and cane. And please, do not discuss this prattling about equal grounds with anyone else...it would not do well to spread such an uncharacteristically sympathetic trait about me to others, would it?"

There was a hint of amusement in Cay's voice. Reginald quickly bowed and exited the landing like a flash, leaving him alone at the top of the stairs. He sighed and stared over the banister, his eyes locking with the portrait of his mother's as he sighed. “Whatever am I going to do now?"

The afternoon was bright as Caymarias stepped into the sun, he closed his eyes and sighed heavily as it washed across his face. He tried to push the thoughts plaguing his mind to the back of it. As he approached the carriage stationed in front of his walk, he turned to see a young child pointing to him and whispering to another directly beside him, both began to laugh and it only fuelled the burning sensation in his face. He couldn't take them seriously; after all, they were only children.

The kingdom had grown over the last few decades since Lucien died. An unexpected and sudden illness that had left him unable to recover. He reflected on this as he looked out the window of his carriage, watching the world pass slowly around as they wound their way through the streets. He spotted his reflection and cringed at it, pressing his fingers along his neck line and pressing it back fruitlessly before turning to Reginald seated in the front. “What happened to me, Reginald?" He asked aloud, prompting the lion to turn to look at him. Cay sighed. “I was once a man of beauty, of refinement... I used to tell my father I'd never be like him. And look at me now... I am an older, fatter, aging version of him."

Reginald sighed. “Master Caymarias you are too hard on yourself--"

“Am I?" He grabbed his head of hair, tugging at it wildly. “Look at this? This--this human condition, half my body is cursed to age out and die while the other half...has an elf's eyes." He grabbed his stomach and as he shook it, he felt the body roll around against the palms of his hands. “I'm this... this old, fat... insecure...thing. That's not me, Reginald that's not--"

Suddenly, the entire carriage was rocked by a powerful, massive explosion. Glass flew everywhere and as Cay's body lifted from its seat, he watched almost in slow motion as the carriage spilled over and over, tumbling under him as he then succumbed to gravity and hit the bottom of the cab, feeling his body thrown up and down as loud bangs and hot, fiery pops cracked around him. He let out a cry of pain as his shoulder struck the back of the plush seat he'd just been sitting on and be bounced back across the cabin. After two or three more throws, he felt the carriage hit the ground on its wheels, and the sheer force threw him hard out into the atmosphere outdoors. He cried out as he hit the mud and felt his body slide across it, cascading over his head as he came to a rest in the trench in which he had fallen. Everything went black all of a sudden.

“Hey...hey check that one... check that one! The fat one!"

Cay could hear voices as the pain of his reality came crashing in around him and he realized that his face and his body was covered in scratches and bruises. The warmth of something liquid was draining over his face before he realized that the ridge above his eye had been cut, and blood from the gash was now seeping down over his vision as he tried to blink it clear. He couldn't move but he felt as two seats of arms suddenly grabbed his elbows and yanked him from the mud. He let out a gasp of pain and his eyes rolled back. “Oh shit! He's alive!" One of the voices shouted in surprise.

The carriage was in ruins, about twenty yards from where Cay had fallen. He could see at least three men rifling through the bodies now strewn beside the coach. Reginald, his longest and most loyal companion lay at the head of the debris, a thick piece of shrapnel through his chest, contorting and partially bisecting his torso. His eyes open, staring blankly into the sky above as his face remained frozen, etched in surprise of the ambush. “R-Reginald..." He whispered toward the man, his eyes welling up with sadness and pain.

“Alright, what've we got here? Royalty?" A man with thick fingers and a thicker beard loomed over Cay, staring at him. He grabbed Cay by the side of the head, squeezing his ear painfully as he looked him over with a critical eye. His eyes dawned in realization. “Well I'll be a duck fucker. If it ain't the king himself!" He proclaimed with a laugh. “Boys! Boys we got ourselves a celebrity here! Meet Caymarias our high and mighty elvish king!"

“What? Elf?" A man said, grabbing Cay's head and staring into his eyes. “Well he got an elf's eyes but he don't look like an elf! He's so fat!"

Another one of the assailants grabbed Cay's face and pressed his fingers along the thin bar of mustache that curled just past his lips. “He's got them elf eyes sure but how can we be sure?"

“Y-you killed..." He said weakly.

“What was that?" The round face of the head gang member snorted in Cay's face his empty beady eyes alight with amusement as he grabbed Cay's thick cheeks and pulled him closer. “I'm sorry but I didn't hear you, we're gonna rob the king blind and there ain't a goddamn thing you're gonna be able to d--"

There was an audible scrunch noise, as though the sounds of several bones had cracked at once and the end of the man's sentence fell away with the rest of his escaping breath. Cay felt something wet hit his face, and then realized it was warm. Putting his hand to it he quickly saw that it was blood, and the taunting man now had a hole where his throat had been only moments before. His mouth fell open and his face went pale, his eyes rolling back as a large hand lifted him up off the ground. There was a loud scuffling and screams as the body was then flung over Cay's head and his own body fell to the ground, clinging to consciousness, he saw a pair of very familiar armored boots turn to face something and then everything went dark. “It...couldn't be...!" Were the last words he heard before his eyes rolled back and he lost himself to blackness.

Cay's eyes opened briefly and closed again as he stretched and felt the cool, satin sheets under him. He turned over and muttered a bit to himself, rousing from what seemed to be a heavy, exhausted sleep. He yawned and stretched his legs out, feeling the cool sheets wave under him as they'd always done.

“Reginald? What time is it?" He said to himself as he sat up and slid toward the edge of the bed. His seemingly paper-thin robe dipping down over his shoulder as he put his feet on the floor and felt the familiar cool stone under his toes. He let out a laugh to himself and yawned again, this time stepping into a pair of slippers at the side of his bed and standing up in them. He could smell breakfast downstairs or...or was it lunch? He looked at the window and realized that the light outside was low, he became concerned he'd actually slept over half the day away. “Reginald? Are you--" Cay nearly collapsed at his doorway, catching himself on his door frame as the memories washed over him. Reginald's frozen face burned into his mind and left him nearly paralyzed with terror.

Cay broke into a run all of a sudden, his left slipper fell off his foot but he didn't care. A blind panic had taken him and he ran down the hall spun past the corridor, staggered down the stairs and threw himself into the kitchen where the smell of food had been coming from. His entire body froze as he looked to see the familiar, large frame of the man he had not seen in many decades now but still remembered him: “Locke?"

The towering muscled man was frozen still over a still-burning stove, the smell of meats and vegetables boiling from the pot he was tending to. His armor made Locke easy to recognize, but he had a new helmet; this one was fitted with a visor. One of many slits that allowed a bit more light to shine off his eyes underneath as he turned his gaze to the round elf now standing in the kitchen. He laughed a bit as he continued to stir the contents. “Oy there he is. I was startin' to think you were going to sleep two days away, you got me worried about you."

“What...what are you--" Cay's eyes welled up suddenly as he remembered. “Y-you saved me... you saved me from those bandits but--Reginald... oh gods... Reginald, my friend."

Locke frowned, or rather Cay thought he did as the light under his mask darkened. “I'm... so sorry I didn't make it in time little prince. I... I wish I could've--" His voice trailed off awkwardly. “I'm sorry."

“You did what you could." Cay said, standing up straight and pressing his hands awkwardly along his silken robe. “You saved my life and...I couldn't have expected any less from you." He paused and puffed his stomach a bit. “Did you say... “little" prince?"

“Oy you may've gained a few pounds but not in your best day could I ever see you as anything but littler than me." Locke laughed.

Cay blushed a bit, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. “Well I guess that comes from my human side... I'm not the same prince you once knew."

“Nope." Locke said assertively as he lumbered toward the prince and scooped him into one arm, pulling him against his chest. His heart was pounding so hard that Cay could hear it echoing. “Yer even better."

“Better?" He said. “But I'm fat... I'm bald..." His voice trailed off again as he unconsciously swept his hand over the balding portions of his scalp. “I'm...I'm not who I was!" He paused in frustration. “I-I have to find Reginald, he needs to be buried here. I've grown so close to him over the years, I want him close even--"

“Already done." Locke said suddenly, interrupting Cay's cracking voice before turning to look at him, his blue eyes still dimly lit by the interior of the helmet he wore. He pointed toward a stone erected in the garden just past the doorway. “He's there..."

“You--" Cay's voice trailed off again.

Locke chuckled, his sound echoing gently in the chamber of his helmet. “Decades ago, I never would've imagined the man you'd become. You used to be so selfish, so...arrogant. But you threw down and let this ol' bastard fuck the living daylights out of you on multiple occasions so I gave it a pass. Now with your newfound caring of others...it's almost a refresher.

“Heh. Too little too late I imagine, I let my own insecurities get away from me and I..." He felt the massive warrior's calloused hand grasp the bottom of his chin, cupping it until their eyes locked. “And you've come back to me?" He switched his sentence in awe as his hands reached up and his thumbs pressed at the protective shielding, lifting the visor to see a pair of pale fleshy lips under the dim shade. “You've not aged a day..." He whispered, his fingers trailing the flesh feeling himself drawn closer. “How did you--?"

There was no pause, Cay's lips were instantly overcome with Locke's who pressed their mouths together. Despite the confines of his helmet, Cay realized the man's helmet was more open in the front than his previous version. He moaned into the man's beastly lips, their tongues clashing and tangling as his arms reached up and wrapped around the man's neck. In response, Locke aggressively pushed his weight into the round man, pushing his back to the dining room table and eagerly grabbing at the man's robe, pulling it apart and dragging it halfway down his shoulders, his lips parting from Cay's and clamping down on a spot that connected his collarbone to his neck and Cay let out a gasp that shocked his system, sending a chill down his spine. Locke pinned Cay down, his tongue meeting the elf's skin, the cold metal of his helmet sliding across his flesh as he pulled the arms free from his neck and pinned them to the table. His hot breath blowing across the elf's torso as he used a free hand to pull his robe free. Cay was well aware how naked he was under his robes and as Locke worked down his neck and chest, the elf's feet pressed against the man's eager hips and pushed down, feeling more and more of his flesh slip from his armored pants. Their lips met again and Locke quickly discarded his boots and his pants. The warmth, the heat of his cock pushing urgently against Cay's stomach and his own cock, the flesh pressing together as their sandwiched members started to salivate their wetness all over. “Ahh! Gods, Locke!" Cay let the words escape his lips between the crashing of their mouths he felt the robes dragged off of him and he was completely naked. In an eager scoop under the small of his back, Locke pulled Cay upright, sitting him up for another kiss before effortlessly sweeping him into his arms and carrying him from the kitchen.

Cay felt like he was getting carried away with lust, he didn't care, he felt Locke's thick, ample flesh against his own, the other man's barbaric, muscular body against his own rotound shape and he wanted it, he wanted more. He clung to Locke as he carried him through the corridor to the stairs, and then up to the second level, his lips kissing down the other man's neck from stem to base, his arousal so prominent that it almost hurt as it remained pressed against the man's muscular chest the entire way up to his bedroom. Once inside, Locke threw Cay onto the bed and used his foot to close the door. He walked back over to the elf, and with a soft grunt, he grabbed onto Cay and roughly flipped him onto his front, he grabbed the man's waist and yanked it up higher than his back and immediately his open faced helmet found his dark pink, fleshy ass and his tongue went straight in.

“Ahhh! Yes!" Cay cried out in ecstasy. “Nnnh! Locke!" He panted and howled in spite of himself, his body trembling in thick lust as he felt Locke's skilled tongue thrust deep into his hole, pressing the flesh apart while he was still able to do so. The clank of his helmet echoed, he didn't care he wanted more and more of the elf, his hands slapped hard at the highest point of Cay's butt, his grip tightening so hard it could have bruised a lesser man but it only made Cay cry louder, his eyes darkened with lust and passion as his hips sank and snapped back, allowing Locke to push deeper and deeper until his own limitations were met and he could not push any further without cramming his mask against his face.

It was enough though, as Cay was dripping precum like a leaking faucet, which was spilling over onto the mattress and wetting it under them. Cay crept a hand over his face, trying to muffle his moans, to stifle the lust flooding through him but there was very little he could do to keep it from overwhelming him anyway. His cock spasmed and writhed under him as Locke ate him out deep and thoroughly, his spit feeling like a natural lubricant for him. He reached back and spread his cheeks apart giving Locke further access. Locke grabbed and began to stroke the elf's cock, his face pressed so hard into his ass that now it was as if the front of his helmet was disappearing. He growled, his voice less echoed as his helmet pushed back again and again, his large hand gratuitously sliding along his length of flesh, making Cay moan louder and louder.

Cay grunted as the waves of his climax suddenly washed over him and his entire body shook like a soft quaking brick of jelly. He came hard, burying his face into the pillow in front of him. He felt the squish as Locke's fingers squeezed and drained his seed with a series of long, wet strokes that made him tremble and quake as the touches intensified and the man withdrew a hefty drizzle of warm seed that he first tasted with his fingers, and then wet over one of Cay's more sensitive areas. Cay moaned, feeling his own warmth being run over his fleshy hole and joined by Locke's eager tongue. Then, a more intense dipping and a deeper probe that made Cay sound off even louder. Soon he was sliding his finger freely into the elf's ass, pressing down to the knuckle as his other hand roamed over the man's backside and up his back before adjusting himself rather generously behind him and pushing his ready and thick cock against the warmth of the elf's waiting hole. As Locke sank into him, Cay's howls of pleasure intensified, he grasped the softness of his bed sheets and pulled them toward him, his cries echoing now, howling with lust and desperation as the massive man slid further and further in. The tightness of the elf's hole clenching tighter around him the further he sank. He growled and moaned, his voice back to the soft echoing as his helmet had reseated itself and the visor had fallen over his face with a light metallic snap. Locke continued to fuck Cay gently, they had not been together for decades now, and the fact he'd just been through a traumatic exp--

“Oh! Gods. Locke! Harder...ahh-d-deeper!"

The man's begging words made Locke look at Cay and grin in a delighted satisfaction. “Y'sure?" He asked with a growl, he didn't even wait for an answer and with a grunt he thrust himself immediately in, all the way to the hilt. The force of his lewd plunge caused Cay's knees to lift off the sheets, he hovered in the air for a brief moment and by the time the sound of the flesh slapping on flesh subsided he was back on the bed again. Locke's body loomed over him, pressing Cay's chest into the bed as he rode the man's ass high into the air. Cay could feel the man's wrecking-ball sized balls collide with his own and immediately a resurge of his arousal washed over him, he could feel himself getting hard again as he cried out. The hair at his shoulders tossed over his shoulders and his face pressed against the pillow, allowing him to let out a howl of pleasure. “AHHH! Fuck! Ahhh!" He cried, his fingers clutching the sheets, his spit dripping from his lips, leaving a wet mark under his face as he looked back at Locke's lustful grin showing through the mask, the man's body littered with sweat as every muscle flexed as he drove himself in deeper again and again, causing the bed to creak under their weight Locke's very weight and force threatening to cave it in as well as the elf's vulnerable ass.

“Nnnhh yes, yes!" Locke grunted, tightening his arms around Cay's round body, still rather easily clasping his hand over his fist as he fucked him into a bear hug.

“L-Locke y-you're going to make me cum ag-again!" Cay warned, feeling the man's body speed up, pistoning into him again and again. Hotter, and faster.

Without batting an eye, Locke shifted, he grabbed Cay by the waist and turned him over so now they were face to face. The look of ecstasy on Cay's face was a red expression, mouth hanging open, sweaty bead across his brow, his eyes almost rolled back. Locke grinned under his helmet and pushed his hand into the small of the elf's back, pulling him upright so he was now fucking him in a more seated position. Cay's legs dangled down over Locke's hips, his feet locking together behind him as he was pulled up and back down even harder onto the man's throbbing flesh. Their bodies rocked together and Locke aggressively locked lips once again with the elf, muffling out his moans as their tongues tangled wetly between their lips. Cay began to ride Locke with a smoother roll to his hips, his hot breath huffing over Locke's beard. He suddenly noticed Locke had a beard. Their eyes met and for a brief moment everything became synchronous.

There was a rumble from Locke's lips now as he growled, his face contorting under his mask as his body shook and suddenly he unleashed surge after surge of heat deep into Cay's body. His lips tightened for a moment and his body froze a moment before he thrust in deeper, forcing his fluids to push out of the confines of Cay's ass, cascading a drizzle of heated seed down to the sheets under them. Cay huffed and released Locke's lips. Locke leaned forward and kissed the elf's apple and pushed back as he worked his lips down his collarbone. He then slipped from Cay's depths and laid him back on the bed sending tingles down his torso as his cool helmet dragged along the skin past his hard nipples, over his large gut and down under it. He lifted Cay's legs and slowly let his lips tickle the length of his flesh before Locke wrapped his lips and his tongue around it.

“Ahhh L-Locke..." Cay huffed louder, moaning as his hands gripped the other man's helmet, pulling him closer as he felt Locke's lips and his teeth teeter along his pulsing flesh.

Locke lifted the elf's balls, squeezing them as he tugged, letting the flesh play around with his lips before sinking his mouth over it again, driving down deeper, he growled, letting the sensations take hold. Letting the smell of his earlier wet release fill his palette with its musky, salty aroma. Their scents combined for an overwhelmingly hot flavor he couldn't get enough of. He twisted his head as best as he could and the dull shine of his helmet reflected Cay on it as he rolled his eyes back and he felt his hips snap forward again and again, chasing his climax with an eager need. He groaned, he moaned, and he released with so much intensity that his body shook again.

Locke's head snapped back slightly as the sudden intense flood of cum started to wash over his tongue, drown his lips and pour down his throat. He swallowed with abandon, tasting every bit of the man's essence that was offered. Soon, the spike settled and both of them melted into each other. Both breathing heavily as they rested against the pillows on the bed.

“By the gods..." Caymarias managed to utter after a time, resting his body against Locke's, feeling the man's muscled frame rise and fall with each heavy breath. “I ha-haven't felt like that in... it must have been fifteen years..."

Locke chuckled, his voice again echoing in his helmet. “Quite... the experience to have you again." He replied.

Cay smirked and looked at Locke. “Say, do you ever take that helmet of yours off?" He asked curiously.

Locke's eyes glanced at him sideways, a playful smile could be seen within the depths of the helmet before he snapped the visor shut again. “Wouldn't you like to know?" He asked playfully.

The sun was setting; it had been nearly a week since the incident, and Cay stared forelornly at the familiar stone that Locke had erected in the garden. The elf remained somber as he stepped forward and placed an orchid on the stone. As he did so a gentle wind kicked up, flicking his hair over his shoulders. “Goodbye, my friend." He said softly.

After a time a shadow appeared behind Cay as Locke placed his hands on the man's shoulders. “An orchid? I thought you liked lilacs."

“Orchids were Reginald's favorite." The man said. “This... this part of the garden is his. He...and you have helped me to live again." He turned to the armored man. “Are you sure you must go?"

“I'm needed elsewhere." Locke nodded before gently lifting the man's gaze to meet his own. “But I'll be back."

“Promise me it won't be another eighty years before we see each other." He replied with a smirk. “I can't promise I'll live forever."

“Me neither." Locke laughed. “And yes, I promise to return soon."

As the sun crowned the distant horizon, the pair kissed again.

THE END