
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/396167.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Diablotin
  Relationship:
      Rayce_Elzior/Loick_Talavera
  Character:
      Rayce_Elzior, Loick_Talavera
  Additional Tags:
      Crossdressing, Dancing, Flirting, Kissing, Oral_Sex, Fingerfucking, Anal
      Sex, Clothing_Kink, Clothed_Sex, First_Time, Gay_Male_Character, Bisexual
      Male_Character
  Collections:
      fan_flashworks
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-05-02 Words: 2481
****** The Seafoam-Green Muslin ******
by Nary
Summary
     She might have been accounted a beauty, although some would consider
     her face sadly marred by the freckles that spotted it. Loick, for his
     part, thought they were charming. This was unexpected, since it was
     rare indeed that he found himself attracted to a woman.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The party was rather subdued, at least by Loick's standards, but it was really
his sister Viriane's circle of friends, not his. He was there to provide the
giggling teenage girls with a suitable but non-threatening dance partner,
approved by the crowd of mothers seated along the wall, fanning themselves and
chatting while keeping a watchful eye on their nubile daughters. Loick, they
could feel confident, was in no danger of sweeping any of the young ladies off
their feet - at worst, some poor innocent maiden might develop an infatuation
with him before she could be discreetly informed that the handsome son of the
Count of Padova was not on the marriage market.
Between bland and unexceptionable dances, he noticed an unfamiliar young woman
engaged in conversation with Tyana Deverara. The unknown damsel was small and
slight and her flaming red hair was caught up in a simple braid, rather than
the more complex styles currently favoured by the ladies of the court. She must
only just have come from the country, Loick imagined, or perhaps she simply had
little concern for fashion. Her dress was quite pretty, though modest, a
seafoam-green muslin trimmed with creamy silk ribbons. She might have been
accounted a beauty, although some would consider her face sadly marred by the
freckles that spotted it. Loick, for his part, thought they were charming. This
was unexpected, since it was rare indeed that he found himself attracted to a
woman. He decided he would at least learn the mysterious girl's name, and then
perhaps arrange an introduction.
"Sister," he asked Viriane, "who is the young lady with the red hair?"
Viriane glanced in the direction he was looking, her brow furrowed. "I'm... not
sure," she admitted. "Perhaps she came with friends?"
"Don't worry," Loick said, smiling at his little sister, "I'll soon find out."
He casually crossed the room to where the pretty stranger sat nestled in the
window seat alongside Mlle. Deverara, and bowed politely to the pair, who
fluttered their fans modestly. "Tyana, my dear," he said, "I hope you are
well?"
"Yes, very well!" the blonde girl replied. "I'm so very glad my mother allowed
me to come to this party, it's lovely."
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," said Loick, but he was looking at the red-
haired girl, who stared back at him with wide blue eyes from over the edge of
her fan.
"Oh, permit me to introduce you," Tyana said hastily. "Mlle. Raysa de Villiers,
this is M. Loick Talavera."
The name was unfamiliar to Loick, adding to his suspicion that she must not
have been long in the city. "Charmed," he said, and bowed over her hand as she
offered it to him shyly. It was not the delicate little thing he expected, but
slightly too large, with hard, callused fingertips. Perhaps she played a
stringed instrument, although Loick was uncertain whether plucking a lute or
harp would produce such tough skin.
"It's lovely to meet you," she murmured. Her voice was low and husky, but quite
pleasant.
"Would you care to stand up with me for the next dance, Mlle. de Villiers?"
Loick asked spontaneously, surprising himself somewhat. Normally this evening
he had been inviting ladies to dance out of a sense of duty, but he found he
actually wished to dance with this unusual young woman.
Raysa looked slightly startled, but agreed, accepting Loick's proffered arm to
stand. As they took their places for the dance, she said, "I'm afraid I may not
know the steps very well."
"Not to worry," Loick reassured her. "I'll take good care of you." He enjoyed
watching her blush as the dance began. True to her word, she made several
missteps, but each time Loick managed to cover for her errors and guide her
smoothly back into the correct pattern. In the moments when the dance's form
brought them together, he was able to feel the smooth movements of her muscles
- she was not an unskilled dancer, then, but simply unfamiliar with these
particular steps, he decided. In fact, she kept trying to move in the same
direction as him, as if she was used to... oh, yes, that was it. Used to
following the man's steps.
Loick was vastly amused, and a little surprised that it had taken him this long
to figure out the truth about Mlle. de Villiers. Now that he looked at her with
a more skeptical eye, he was able to perceive that her shoulders were a little
too broad for her delicate frame, her feet, when they were visible beneath the
hem of her frock, were larger than they ought to be, and the ribbon at her
throat must have been to conceal the bump there. He was far too much of a
gentleman to say anything just then, but he could barely stop looking at her,
drawn in by the tantalizing mixture of male and female features, and her
undeniable beauty, whatever her sex.
When the set concluded, he bowed to her, kissing her roughened hand. "Thank
you, mademoiselle," he said, "for a most... intriguing dance."
She blushed, but looked up at him audaciously, as if daring him to reveal her
secret. "I've longed to dance with you for some time, sir."
"Oh have you," Loick said, smiling. He walked with her over to the
refreshments, trusting in the music to cover their conversation from casual
eavesdroppers. "Is that why you came, then?"
"Not entirely," she murmured. "Some young ladies are distressingly well-
chaperoned, don't you think?"
Loick stifled a laugh. This was a bold one, and no mistake. "I don't imagine
you have that problem, though, Raysa." He laid a slight emphasis on the name,
wondering what she was really called. "You could slip upstairs without any
trouble, couldn't you," he said, lowering his voice so that no one else would
hear.
"I could," she said at once, "if I knew there would be someone to meet me."
"Oh, I wouldn't leave a guest alone under such circumstances," Loick assured
her. "Last door on the left."
"Just give me ten minutes," she said under her breath, and slipped away. Loick
grinned and began the process of making his own polite farewells. Despite his
sister's annoyance at his early departure, he was able to extricate himself
from the party without too much difficulty, and proceed upstairs to his
bedroom. It was only a short wait before there was a quiet little knock at the
door, and a certain red-haired young person was invited inside.
"What's your real name, then?" Loick asked, eyeing his new guest.
"Rayce Elzior," he told him, looking up and smiling slyly.
"Mmhmm, and where'd you get the dress? It suits you, but I can't imagine you
went into a shop and bought it yourself."
"It's my sister Oclea's," Rayce admitted. "She doesn't know I borrowed it." He
was advancing on Loick already, all big blue eyes and adorable freckles and
grabby hands. It was plain his interest in further conversation was limited,
but Loick wasn't quite ready to move on just yet, so he caught him by the
wrists, holding him tight.
"Seems an odd way of meeting girls," he said, ignoring Rayce's pout.
Rayce shrugged. "It works better than you'd think. On boys too, sometimes," he
added with a touch of pride.
Loick chuckled. "How old are you, you little tart? Fourteen, fifteen?"
"Sixteen," Rayce said, sticking his chin out defiantly. "Old enough."
"Definitely old enough," Loick agreed, and loosed his hands to allow the boy to
embrace him. Rayce was endearingly eager and aggressive, tugging Loick's coat
open and off, tearing at the buttons of his shirt, pushing him in the direction
of the bed, all the while on tiptoes to kiss him, tongue pressing fiercely
between his lips. Loick, grinning, let himself be stripped to the waist and led
where the boy wanted him to go, grabbing the thin fabric of his dress to pull
him down to lie with him.
Impatient, Rayce already had one hand working at the front of Loick's breeches,
finding him hard and waiting. "Ohh," he gasped, stroking down his considerable
length, "hurry up, get these off!"
Loick obliged, struggling out of his pants and giving Rayce his first look at
his cock, taking pleasure in the way the boy's eyes widened at the sight. "You
like that?"
"Yes!" Rayce sat up and grabbed it with one rough, freckled hand, just holding
it, feeling its heft, its pulse, its heat. Loick pushed gently with his hips,
thrusting up into his fist, encouraging him to do more. "Should I ...suck it?"
Rayce asked, a bit uncertain all of a sudden, and Loick wondered just how much
experience he had with men.
"If you like," he offered, reaching up to stroke the fine copper strands
escaping from Rayce's braid.
Rayce nodded and bowed down to lick him, sharp little tongue darting out for a
taste, soon followed by less hesitant mouthings, until Loick was slick with his
saliva and aching for more. There was no way Rayce could take him all the way -
there weren't many who could - but he was clever enough to use his hands and
mouth together, slippery-sweet and eager to please.
"Gods, so good," Loick murmured, encouraging him. Rayce looked up at him, blue
eyes mischievous, and slid one spit-soaked finger down over his balls and then
behind them to tease his ass, circling its snug ring, making Loick gasp.
"More of that?" he asked, lifting his head long enough to smile at the lovely
sight laid out before him.
Loick nodded fervently, spreading his legs wider, and Rayce needed no further
encouragement to begin pressing into him, returning to suckle at his cock as he
did so. Loick gave a most undignified groan as Rayce fingered him open, the
first quickly joined by a second, stretching him wider. When he tried to start
adding a third, however, it was too much. "Wait," Loick panted, pushing himself
up on his elbows. "Don't stop, just... slower."
"If you can't take that, you're never going to manage my cock," Rayce teased.
Loick had to laugh at that. "Get a little of the oil from the bottle on the
dresser there and I'll take anything you can give me, darling."
Rayce blushed prettily as he leaned over to fetch the bottle in question,
unstoppering it and pouring a small amount over his hand. Loick admired how the
delicate fabric of his dress was tenting at the front, and longed to get a
better look at what was beneath it. For the moment, however, he lay back and
let Rayce carry on fingering him, easier now that he was well-lubricated.
"That's, ahh, fuck," he gasped as Rayce jammed a third finger in, "don't stop!"
He took his cock in hand, unable to resist its need to be touched. Reminded of
that part of his task, Rayce bent forward to slurp greedily at its head, so
that Loick had to rein himself in before he came in the boy's gaping mouth.
"I want to fuck you now," Rayce said, surfacing for breath a short while later.
No shyness, no beating around the bush, just straight to his most urgent
desire. Loick liked that.
"Of course," he told him, as graciously as he could manage with his ass packed
tight with fingers. More often, Loick was the one doing the fucking, but for
this cocky young man, he was willing to make an exception. "As long as you
leave the dress on."
Rayce looked a little unsure. "I'm worried I'll wreck it," he admitted. "My
sister will notice if it's missing.."
"Void it!" Loick exclaimed impatiently. "I'll buy her a new one if it's ruined,
just get in me now!"
Withdrawing his fingers, Rayce hoisted the borrowed dress up around his slender
hips, giving Loick an excellent view of his cock, a delicious-looking specimen,
especially when surrounded by the contrast of lacy underskirts. He smiled slyly
for Loick, stroking himself teasingly, getting himself slick. "Is this what you
want?"
Loick tried and failed to hold back a needy moan. "I need it, fuck, yes
please," he managed, squirming impatiently.
"Turn over, then," Rayce ordered him. Loick obligingly rolled onto his stomach,
legs splayed across the bed, sticking his ass up like the willing slut he was.
Rayce ground against him, cock pressing along his cleft, slick and ready,
tormenting him just a little further before finally pushing into him. Loick
buried his face in his arms, moaning desperately. He clutched at the bed
sheets, feeling as though he was on fire, stuffed to bursting, and about to
fall, all at once.
Rayce's hipbones were sharp against his ass with each quick thrust, and the
delicate cloth of the gown brushed against his skin, confusing and sensual. He
could hear Rayce's moan catch in his throat as he tightened around him, and
gave a brief laugh before the renewed assault on his ass made it impossible to
do anything but hold on and try to keep breathing. He tried to get a hand onto
his cock, managed a few strokes, but found he needed both arms to keep himself
braced. Mercifully, Rayce soon reached around and grabbed him roughly, letting
Loick thrust through the circle of his fingers, sending him into a dizzying
spiral of pleasure. With such treatment, it didn't take long before he couldn't
hold back any longer, spilling his load over Rayce's knuckles and the sheets.
He collapsed onto the bed, feeling Rayce's thrusts stutter, uneven and frantic,
as he came deep inside him.
They lay together, Rayce stretched along his back, for a few minutes longer,
regaining their breath. Finally, Rayce rolled off to lie beside Loick,
stretching his arms and yawning contentedly. The stretching was what finally
proved to be too much for the dress, which gave a pained tearing sound as a
seam at the shoulder gave way. "Bugger," Rayce said, not seeming overly
concerned. "Oh well, it's stained now anyway."
Loick laughed. "And I doubt you could ever look at your sister wearing it again
with a straight face."
"True," agreed Rayce cheerfully. "Will I... can I see you again?" he asked,
plainly trying not to sound too desperate.
"Anytime," Loick told him, rolling over to pull him close for a kiss. "Next
time, feel free to wear your own clothes - I'll enjoy stripping them off you."
Rayce laughed and cuddled up in his arms until the sounds of the party from
downstairs had faded and he could safely make his getaway.
The following day, Mlle. Oclea Elzior was surprised to receive a brief message
and the sum of thirty imperials in the morning post. "Why in the world is Loick
Talavera apologizing for ruining my dress? I've never even so much as spoken to
him." Her brother simply shrugged and smiled to himself.
End Notes
     You can find me on Tumblr at naryrising if you want to ask questions,
     make requests, or chat!
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