Quiet as Mice 2

Warnings: Spoiler alert! Well, sort of... ^_~ No spoilers for the series itself, but DO NOT read if you DO NOT want to be SPOILED for my Skin of Stone story arc! This is a lemon... not a PWP by any means since it has a significant bearing on the whole SoS universe, but definitely a lemon. I've even deviated from my usual angst-fest here in that it's a happy fic! ^_^ It's a very long, happy lemon.

Disclaimers: All characters from Slayers belong to their creator/distributor. They are used without permission, but for entertainment purposes only, not for profit

Author's Notes: An explanation of the title... Ronda-san and her lovely free verse poem (or chibi ficlet as she named it when she posted it) 'Quiet as Mice' inspired this. I re-read it while in the right frame of mind, and I was amazed at how unbelievably well it meshed with several ideas for fics that would continue the Skin of Stone story arc even beyond Hair Like Wire. I begged her to borrow it so that I could use it to enhance this segment of the arc. After she gave her permission (thank you again Ronda-san *massive hugs*), I worked like a fiend and this is the result. Thus, the 'Part 2' in the title... so it won't be confused with Ronda-san's work. ^_^ This story takes the form of a songfic, but since 'Quiet as Mice' is not a song, Ronda and I decided that this should be a poem-fic. ^_^ The poem in its entirety may be found here... Just so all your memories are refreshed.

"Goodnight," Gourry softly said, pausing by the door to his room at the inn where he and his companions had chosen to spend the night.

Gourry waited until Amelia had entered the room next to his, then offered Lina one final wave before she could disappear as well. He listened for the faint, telltale snick which would confirm that the girls had bolted their door, then turned his attention to his own, but he was not given the chance to do more than place his hand on the latch before Lina poked her head back out into the hall.

Gourry simply raised an eyebrow to acknowledge the redheaded sorceress who was frowning over at him, her forehead creased with the concern lines she seldom revealed to anyone besides himself, Zelgadis and Amelia.

"Nope," Gourry replied, raising the small, earthenware crock of ale, the mug, and the paper wrapped sandwich from where they had been shielded from his friend's sight by his body. "I've got everything."

"Good. He really needs to get something in his belly. Yesterday, he just picked at his food, and I don't think he ate much at all today either."

"He didn't eat anything today, Lina, not that I could see anyway." Gourry corrected, his concern as deep as the sorceress'. He had learned that trying to force Zelgadis to eat when he did not want to was a nearly impossible battle to win, but, in this case, he agreed with Lina in that he must try. That night, the shaman had not even made a pretense at eating dinner as he usually did, joining them at the table and at least drinking his perpetual cup of coffee, but had gone straight to the room they would share almost as soon as they had rented it. He had no idea just what the mazoku and golem thirds of the other man's chimeric body required to sustain them, but found it difficult to believe that the human third did not need food. It was high time Zelgadis ate something.

"Wonderful... Geez, Gourry, I don't know how he does this all the time without constantly passing out!"

"Maybe 'cause he's different from us? I don't know, but, even if that's not it, you still have to give him a little bit of a break. I mean, you can't expect everyone to eat like, um, well..." Gourry purposefully trailed off, struggling to keep a straight face as Lina's red brows drew dangerously close to one another.

"Well," Gourry said, ignoring the deceptively sweet tone of voice his friend used. He opened his eyes wide and gave her the most earnest look he could muster as he finished, "Not everyone eats like you, Lina."

"What? Like you're one to talk, mister 'I'll eat anything that won't run away from me'!"

Gourry grinned widely, not bothering to deny Lina's accusation since he knew full well that it was true.

"Oh, I don't know why I bother! Go on. Let Zelgadis deal with you for the rest of the night, I've had enough."

"But, Lina, that's what I was trying to do," Gourry said, schooling his expression into one of innocence. You're the one keeping me out here in the hall talking!" His grin returned, wider than before, when Lina stuck her tongue out at him, then continued on as if he had never spoken at all.

"And, besides, you both need to get a good night's sleep. I want to get to that ruined temple on the outskirts of town by first light."

"Yes, ma'am," Gourry said, snapping the redhead a salute. He started chuckling softly when Lina just glared at him before withdrawing back into her room. Finally given an opportunity, he, Zelgadis, and the two girls had recently completed a thorough perusal of the contents of Seyruun's many libraries, archives and temples. As it seemed fated to be, they had turned up nothing they thought would help the shaman return his body to its original state, but Lina had found the map which had led them to this inn and would lead them on to some promising ruins in the morning.

The concern which Gourry's good humor had mitigated returned full force when he finally got his door open. He had expected to find Zelgadis sitting at the room's table, engrossed in some book, cleaning his sword, or something else similar. He did not expect to find the room as black as the pitch mentioned in Lina's Giga Slave spell.

Stepping into the room, he pulled the door shut behind himself by the bolt instead of the knob, then slid the heavy rod to the side, securing it for the night. Blinded in the murk, he stayed where he was and softly called, "You still awake, Zel?"

"Of course," Zelgadis replied, equally as soft, opening the eyes he had closed so that the brightness invading the room from the hall would not diminish the clarity of his night vision.

"Then, why are all the lights off?" Gourry grumbled, wishing his eyes would adjust already. If he had known that the room would be dark, he could have brought a lamp with him.

"I don't know. Felt like it, I guess. Tonight, the darkness is somehow... soothing."

"Yeah, right. Maybe for people who can actually see in the dark," Gourry retorted. He squinted around the room, trying to get his bearings, but all he could see other than the weak streak of starshine stretching across the floorboards from the room's single window to himself was blackness.

"Why'd you come up so early anyway, Zel?" Gourry finally asked when it became apparent that the shaman had no intention of responding to his last statement. Sighing, wistfully longing for eyes as sensitive as the other man's, he tried to remember the layout of the room. The bed was to the right of the door, the same direction from which Zelgadis' voice had come. The table had been in the far corner on the other side, next to the dresser. On the table had been a lamp and he needed to get that lamp lit.

"Just wanted to have another look at the map Lina dredged up for those temple ruins we're going to tomorrow," Zelgadis murmured. A slow smile curved his lips as he watched Gourry finally step away from the door and move towards the table with one hand outstretched, but his amusement gave way beneath a growing wave of impatience as the swordsman seemed unable to move any faster than a snail. Shifting restlessly, he slid one foot from beneath himself and extending it a little to the side, its new location on the bed's sheets wonderfully cool on his heated skin. His arms twitched, his hands slipping off his thighs and onto the sheets, one to the outside of his right leg, the other in between his parted knees, but then he forced himself to back to stillness. He had no desire to betray himself with inexplicable rustling and he had no one other than himself to blame for Gourry's hesitancy.

"No, I only turned off the lights after I'd finished, of course," Zelgadis replied, serenely ignoring Gourry's irritation. He smiled again as the swordsman began to sweep his hand back and forth, obviously searching for the table. The other man was very close to it, though he did not find it since the height of his hand was much greater than that of the table. Perhaps, he should give a warning before Gourry-,

- ran into it? Damn! Zelgadis winced as Gourry slammed his knee into a chair and folded over the table, then called, "You okay?"

"Oh, just great!" Gourry practically snarled, rubbing his knee until the sharp pain spiking through it dulled somewhat. Straightening, he shoved the chair away from himself with a noisy clatter, as if it had been its fault that he had kicked it.

"Good, then try to keep it down," Zelgadis suggested, his voice intentionally mild. "You wouldn't want to disturb the other guests with all that racket."

"Well, if you want me to be quiet, you could help me out here a little!" Gourry snapped, spinning in the direction of the shaman's disembodied voice, his patience finally fraying.

A hundred reasons flew into Zelgadis' mind for not providing Gourry with a light in the first second which passed after the swordsman made his demand. A hundred arguments for simply slipping beneath the sheets and covering himself before making a light, if he chose to do it at all, followed in the next. But, by the time the third second had ticked away, his sudden uneasiness subsided, leaving nothing but the pleasant tingle of anticipation in its wake as it fled. This was what he had chosen, and though it was not too late, he would not turn back.

"Fine," Zelgadis finally murmured. Very slowly, he raised his hands to cup the power he was about to summon, then took a deep, calming breath and whispered, "Lighting."

"Thanks so much, Zel," Gourry grated, wincing and throwing an arm up in front of his eyes as the sudden flash of brilliance threaded dagger-like tendrils of pain through them. "Why couldn't you do that earlier? More fun to see me run into the table?" he continued, knowing he was not being fair, but too annoyed to really care at the moment.

"Not at all," Zelgadis replied. He directed his light to hover at ceiling height, satisfied that it would shine for several hours before fading, then lowered his hands back to their previous positions. He silently studied the swordsman for a moment, and when Gourry's forearm remained over his eyes, he quietly asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Gourry muttered, "Eyes are just watering." When he felt able to, he lowered his arm, but the disgusted sigh accompanying the movement turned into a stunned emptying of his lungs as he focused on the man on the other side of the room.

A tiny smile crooked one corner of Zelgadis' mouth as Gourry froze, eyes first blinking rapidly, then opening nearly as wide as his mouth. It was a stronger reaction than he had expected, but a most gratifying one.

Chest heaving, Gourry finally sucked in a huge breath, but otherwise remained motionless, mesmerized all over again by the beauty of the man he loved. Gloriously nude, Zelgadis was sitting in the center of the bed, one leg drawn up beneath himself, the other looking as if it had slipped to the side. He was absolutely motionless, yet his slender body seemed to throb with the promise of power. Leaning forward onto the hands between his legs and to the side, he was poised like a great hunting cat about to take down its prey.

"I just wanted to surprise you," Zelgadis murmured, forcing himself to remain still as Gourry's raptor keen eyes roved hungrily over his body. A part of him wanted to hide, to recapture the darkness which had concealed him as well as the heavy cloth of his travel cloak did during the day, but another part, one newly awakened by deliberately placing himself on display, reveled in the unmistakable response he had drawn from the swordsman and was gaining strength with each passing moment.

"Y-, you did," Gourry haltingly whispered, his voice a thin, sandy rasp which barely escaped the confines of his suddenly parched throat.

"I'm pleased," Zelgadis confessed, though pleased was a massive understatement. After making so many bad choices and misjudgments concerning his swordsman, he was absolutely delighted to have finally gotten something right.

"Oh... so am I," Gourry agreed, swallowing convulsively as Zelgadis' hips rocked ever so slightly, invitingly...

"I also needed to prepare myself for you," Zelgadis husked, forcing himself back to stillness, denying himself the indulgence of motion. No matter how marvelous it felt, he wanted Gourry to be the one to test the limits of his control. "Please, I need you."

Gourry sighed out a soft moan as his shaman's already deep voice dropped even lower, the rich, resonant tone flowing over and around him, wrapping him in an almost liquid embrace that was as warm as fire-touched honey and just as sweet. Zelgadis was just like a great hunting cat. The only difference was that the other man did not have to exert himself to capture his prey. All he needed to do was speak and Gourry was helpless.

"All right," Gourry faintly murmured, awareness narrowing until there was Zelgadis, and the beckoning hand he raised, and nothing else.

Zelgadis cringed as Gourry's hand went slack and the items he had been holding dropped to the floor. The crock, fortunately, landed atop the paper bundle, and only began to roll after it toppled, but the mug was an entirely different story as it landed on the bare, wooden slats.

"Oh, hell!" Gourry cursed, the spell he had been under shattering into as many shards as the mug.

"Shhh," Zelgadis hissed as he slid off the bed. Slowly and carefully, he crouched and reached out with one hand to stop the crock. "We really do need to be quiet. They're right next door this time."

"I know, I know," Gourry groaned, still damning himself for his carelessness. To this point in their journey, he and his shaman had been fortunate enough that their room had never been adjacent to the girls'. Not so this time, and the walls of inns were not nearly as thick as those of castles.

"We wouldn't want them to think we're being attacked by bandits or mazoku or anything and come investigate," Zelgadis mildly said as he righted the crock. His amusement at the ridiculousness of the whole situation getting the better of him, he winked at his lover as Gourry dropped into a crouch and began trying to gather the shards of the mug into a pile.

"Oh, shut up," Gourry responded sourly, though his disgust with himself was lessening beneath the influence of his shaman's teasing. It still amazed him that they could joke about their beginnings, about something that had been, at the time, very painful. "At least I remembered to lock the door."

"Did I say it didn't?" Gourry returned with a sidelong glance at the other man. "All I'm saying is that since I'm not as forgetful as you, if the girls come 'round investigating, they'd have to break through the door before they could discover anything." Not that he wanted them to investigate anything. He could really do without a morning of being the target of Lina's warped sense of humor and knowing glances just as he could do without the hysteria which would no doubt result in Amelia discovering the secret he and Zelgadis had managed to keep from her for far longer than he had thought possible.

"Not as forgetful as I? Since whe-," Zelgadis abruptly broke off as Gourry spit out a soft curse, then lifted one slender finger to his lips.

"Just nicked me," Gourry mumbled around his mouthful. He reached down with his other hand and continued trying to sweep up the broken mug pieces until slim blue-green fingers closed around his wrist.

"Leave that," Zelgadis quietly suggested, then drew Gourry's finger out of his mouth so that he could see the injury. The slice in the pad of the index finger was small and shallow, but blood still oozed from it. "Let's take care of this instead," he whispered, raising the finger to his own lips.

Gourry froze, spellbound once more, as Zelgadis' lips parted and his agile tongue swept the length of his cut. He held his breath as white teeth proceeded to nibble delicately around the tip of his finger, and groaned when lips as warm as sun-baked clay closed about it.

Eyes drifting shut, Zelgadis lazily swirled his tongue around the appendage he loosely held between his teeth, ridding it of the scarlet which had marred its paleness, the tang of copper metallic twining itself around and through the taste of his lover's flesh only magnifying his pleasure.

The dance of Zelgadis' tongue and the scrape of his teeth fast restored the delicious ache between Gourry's legs which had diminished because of his accident. He swiveled to face his lover completely, leaning close, the hand not being held captive rising to curve around the back of the shaman's head.

"Oh," Zelgadis quietly breathed, Gourry's finger sliding from his mouth, forgotten, as sultry heat engulfed the tip of one ear. Tiny tremors began to work themselves up from the small of his back as his swordsman's teeth embarked on the trek they had learned so well.

Gourry closed his eyes, savoring the spicy piquancy unique to his shaman, taking advantage of one of the few spots in Zelgadis' skin of stone with an almost human give to hasten the release of the sensuousness imprisoned beneath it. The hand the other man had freed rising to join its fellow, he cradled his lover's head even closer, drawing the tapered point of the ear more deeply into his mouth and sinking his teeth into it again.

"Oh, gods," Zelgadis groaned, turning his head slightly as Gourry's teeth released the tip of his ear and began to nibble their way down the back.

Gourry smiled around the lobe of Zelgadis' ear as a more pronounced shudder worked itself from his shaman's hips up to his shoulders. His fingers slid from the other man's wire-like hair down and around to his throat and began stroking the length of it, preparing it for the eminent arrival of his mouth.

Rumbling deep in the back of his throat, Zelgadis fisted his hands in the lush fall of gold which spilled over his swordsman's shoulders to the floor and pulled Gourry away from his ear and over to his lips. It was only the sharp snap of breaking ceramic as he lowered one knee which eased the torrent of sensual input flooding his awareness enough for him to remember exactly where they were.

"Wha-," Gourry breathed, only gradually realizing that Zelgadis had not pulled away in order to place his lips elsewhere. He opened his eyes as his fingers slid down the shaman's rising body, but forgot to ask why the other man was getting to his feet as he focused on a new portion of his lover's anatomy. Yes. Running his tongue over his lips, he swayed forward. If he could not have the shaman's lips or ears, then that would do nicely for occupying his mouth.

"No, Gourry. Don't," Zelgadis whispered, easily reading his swordsman's intent and intercepting his chin. Smiling slightly, he gestured meaningfully at the broken shards of mug which Gourry had not managed to gather before they had been... distracted. "We have to move. I won't be hurt, but if you put your knee down as I just did, you'll give yourself a more serious slice than the one on your finger." He stepped back and extended a hand, drawing the swordsman to his feet when he took it.

Unable to wait even the few extra steps it would take to reach the bed, Gourry pulled Zelgadis into his arms as soon as they cleared the mug's shatter radius. Bending his head, he resumed where they had left off.

The scrape of sturdy fabric against the sensitive flesh of his cock reminded Zelgadis that Gourry was still clothed. Fingers needing to run themselves over something more smooth and sleek than the swordsman's cotton tunic, he slid his hands to the waistband of his lover's trousers and worked the offending material free.

Gourry jerked away, releasing Zelgadis, the sudden glide of his shaman's fingers along his ribs stealing his breath. Reaching up, he pulled his tunic up and over his head, then dropped it behind himself.

Smiling his appreciation, Zelgadis bent to Gourry's chest, his tongue darting out to flick over and over one of his swordsman's nipples until the dusky flesh pebbled, becoming as rigid and hard as one of the stones which dotted his own chest.

Moaning his approval of Zelgadis' ministrations, Gourry's eyes closed, his head fell back, the fingers of one hand wove through stiff strands of blue and pressed the shaman even closer, the fingers of the other sought...

"No, I will," Zelgadis rumbled in the space it took for him to move from one nipple to the other, his hands fending off Gourry's attempt to open the fasteners of his trousers. He quickly suited actions to words and then pushed the fabric down over the swordsman's hips.

The sudden bite of frost on the newly exposed skin of Gourry's stomach was immediately stroked away by hands as warm as the first kiss of spring. He arched his back, seeking more, and the hands obliged, kneading his flesh until he was almost purring his pleasure.

His tongue meandering a convoluted route, tracing each rib and each ridge of the abdomen he could not stop caressing, Zelgadis slowly lowered himself to his knees.

"Gods!" Gourry cried as the pattern being painted by Zelgadis' lips and tongue was completed by the teeth which suddenly nipped at his navel.

The seasons turned again, Zelgadis' breath the crispness of autumn on Gourry's damp flesh after the torpid steam of summer. He struggled to heed his shaman's warning and contain his moan, but failed as summer refused to relinquish its grip on him and spread its sweltering heat back over his stomach and inside the waistband of his trousers.

Moisture which had soaked through binding underclothes dampened Zelgadis' chin and lips as he brushed them back and forth over Gourry's erection. He slid his hands to his swordsman's hips and stroked them with his thumbs, breathing deeply, enchanted that the cloth covered flesh his lips touched time and time again seemed harder than the jut of the bone beneath his fingers.

Gourry softly gasped when Zelgadis touched him, then locked his knees and struggled to remain upright. Becoming increasingly desperate when his lover showed no signs of stopping any time in the near future, he finally reached down and forced his shaman's head to stillness before the rocky roughness the other man sported in lieu of a beard drove him out of his mind.

Growling his vexation at finding his motions hindered, Zelgadis nipped into the bulge beneath his mouth, not hard enough to hurt, but sharply enough to show he was not pleased.

"Oh, g-, gods!" Gourry cried, his hips jerking convulsively, tender-vulnerable hardness only spared by the thread thin barrier of his underclothes. An inarticulate groan ripped its way free from his chest as Zelgadis' teeth closed on him again, the biting, sharp pleasure spiraling up his spine, and he suddenly did not give a damn if every occupant of the inn heard him so long as Zelgadis did not stop! His fingers clenching, he thrust himself against his shaman's mouth when it gaped a third time.

Losing himself in an elemental haze of sensation, Zelgadis blindly nuzzled and nipped at the rigidity he was offered, but became increasingly distressed when the gift delivered neither the flavor nor the texture he craved. A whimper began building in his throat until the bands of steel which had clamped above and below his ears were removed and the barrier disappeared.

Underclothes sliding down his thighs, Gourry's hands trembled as he fought with himself, as he tried to control his urge to just pry open Zelgadis' jaws and thrust himself again and again into the wet heat within until he eased the ache in his body. He won the struggle, but just barely, and mainly because he recognized that his lover had relaxed into that special state where he was so focused on the giving and taking of pleasure that he was no longer quite aware of his surroundings.

Inhaling, Zelgadis located the liquid he sought by its scent. He eagerly lapped at it, the flavor bursting in his mouth as sweet as mead and just as intoxicating.

Gourry's hands balled into fists, the teasing, too light touch of his lover tormenting him like some diabolical form of torture, but he continued to control himself. Zelgadis' sexuality had been ruthlessly exploited and abused by the monster who had created him, becoming so warped and frightening to him, so hateful, that he had learned to rigidly control and repress it. Blinded by ignorance, Gourry had not realized that it had been an infrequent relaxation of that control, an unwilling yielding to a sensuality which defied repression, that had enabled him to enter the shaman's room and witness him pleasuring himself that first night they had been together. He had not seen anything like it again for a long, long time afterwards, not even after the birthing pains of their relationship had passed and Zelgadis had finally been made to believe that he was loved and desired. That he was seeing it more and more often was the greatest sign of love, and, perhaps even more importantly, of trust that the other man could give him, and he refused to do anything which would disrupt or discourage it.

Zelgadis nibbled the yielding softness immediately surrounding the wellspring, frequently returning to it to sip again from its unlimited supply. He widened the territory his tongue and teeth traversed until there was a firmness which rivaled the earth herself to contrast pleasingly with the softness. Finally, after one last drink, he took it all within himself, humming happily at the satisfying fullness in his mouth and throat.

And, why would he want to do anything to disrupt Zelgadis when it resulted in sensation such as the thrumming vibrations and searing heat which now engulfed him? Gourry's hands found an anchor in his lover's hair again as his hips bucked involuntarily.

Reason returned to Zelgadis only when the thrill which radiated from his backside throughout his entire body as he shifted his hips reminded him that as pleasing as feeding off it was, he had started this night with far greater plans for Gourry's erection. And, the bed would be a much nicer location than the floor to bring those plans to fruition. With one final swirl of his tongue around the crown of the swordsman's cock, he released his lover, then encouraged him to lift his feet with pressure to the back of each knee so that he could rid him of the rest of his clothing. When Gourry was as naked as himself, he surged to his feet, slid his hands to the backs of his lover's thighs just below the buttocks, and lifted.

Gourry wrapped his arms around Zelgadis' neck and his legs around the shaman's slim waist as he felt his feet leave the ground, and bent his longer torso to reach his lover's lips as the other man began moving.

After reaching it, Zelgadis carefully inched his way to the center of the bed, then gently lowered Gourry to the mattress. His lips still fully occupied, he straddled one of his swordsman's sprawled legs, then lowered himself so that the elbow and hip which rested on the bed bore most of his weight, but left enough of it distributed over the thigh of the leg he left draped over Gourry's to press solidly into the other man's erection.

"Z-, Zel," Gourry managed to gasp, his face bathed by a startling brightness as the shaman's lips finally left his to track down his jaw to his ear, "Wha-, what about the light? Got-, gotta turn it off." Now that he was thinking about it, he was surprised that Zelgadis had allowed his light to remain this long, for in matters of lovemaking, the other man was a creature of the night, choosing to cloak the body he hated in soft, black darkness if he could. As much as he cherished the sight of his shaman's body whenever they made love and light was unavoidable, he truly did not mind acquiescing to Zelgadis' preferences when it was. Anything that his lover needed to feel at ease he would get.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Zelgadis lifted his head and slowly shook it. No, he had decided that he would no longer hide. He was what he was, and what he was Gourry loved. It was enough. He would never fully relinquish his dream of restoring his humanity, but he would no longer allow it to be an all consuming obsession. He would live out his life in the light, with his swordsman, even if it never came true.

"Ah, no longer, love," Zelgadis whispered after silencing Gourry with a single finger over his lips, "For this night and for always, I want the light on." He slowly shifted until he straddled both the swordsman's thighs, then sat back on his heels before continuing, "I want to see you." He concentrated and with a small gesture called his mage-borne ball of radiance closer, set it hovering directly overhead so that he would no longer be backlit. "And," he finally finished, capturing the single wide, azure eye which gazed up at him, his hand going to his chest and giving one nipple a twist before it continued down to his groin, "I want to be seen."

"Ohh," Gourry breathed, entranced as Zelgadis' slim, elegant hand began gliding over the turgid flesh of his cock. "Oh, my gods."

Knowing well his lover's discomfort with his body, Gourry had never mustered the courage to ask Zelgadis to touch himself again after the accidental first time, though remembering all that he had witnessed remained a special, private fantasy. Seeing him touch himself now, fully aware of his avid audience, liquid turquoise depths of his eyes filled with simple pleasure and desire rather than shame, honed his hunger for the shaman beyond sword sharpness.

The increasing raggedness of Gourry's breathing and the almost, no, definitely predatory way the swordsman's eyes followed his hand relieved Zelgadis of the last of his doubt regarding the wisdom of his decision. He brushed the backs of his knuckles over his lover's cock as he swept his hand up to the tip of his own, again on the way back down, then again until every movement of his hand brought both of them pleasure.

No longer able to simply watch, Gourry raised his twitching fingers and slid them up his lover's thighs. As they closed on Zelgadis' slowly moving hand, it paused, its grip loosening as though the shaman would forsake his own touch for Gourry's, but before it could fall away, he covered it with one of his own. "Please," he huskily pleaded, beginning to move both their hands encouragingly, "Don't stop."

Eyes closing, Zelgadis resumed his slow, steady stroking as Gourry's hand left his, lifting himself slightly as it skimmed below.

As Gourry's fingers bent to cup his lover's testicles, their tips brushed across something... unexpected, a hardness nestled between Zelgadis' buttocks which surpassed even the normal firmness of the shaman's skin.

Breath catching, Zelgadis lifted himself a little bit more as Gourry's fingers traced the outline of his final surprise for the night.

"Preparing yourself?" Gourry asked, his whisper clogging with sheerest want and need as the meaning of his lover's previous words finally became clear. Oh gods. Body becoming so unbelievably tight that he could not even begin to wonder where Zelgadis had gotten it, his fingers ran over the base of the plug his shaman had inserted within himself sometime earlier that night, then finally curled under its edge.

Bereft of words, Zelgadis shuddered as Gourry withdrew the plug slightly, then arched his back and pressed himself against it as the swordsman thrust it back in. His breath began to escape in a moan as his partner repeated the sequence, and began building in volume until a sudden pressure around his testicles cut it off.

"Shhhhh!" Gourry sternly hissed into the dazed eyes which finally focused on him.

"C-, can't," Zelgadis panted, releasing his cock and bracing his hands on his thighs. Hanging his head, he tried to slow the sensations reverberating throughout his body, but it seemed an effort fated to fail.

"B-, but, Gourry, f-, feels so-," Zelgadis gasped, trying to explain, but abruptly broke off, sucking in huge breath as the hand at his testicles gave him another warning squeeze.

"You have to be quiet no matter what I do, Zel," Gourry whispered making sure his shaman could see the slow smile spreading across his face. "And, if you didn't want me to play with this, then you shouldn't have used it!"

Zelgadis stiffened and clamped his lips together, holding his breath to contain his howl as Gourry's palm began grinding slow circles between his buttocks, mercilessly shifting the plug buried deeply within him.

Zelgadis folded at the middle when Gourry finally stopped, collapsing hard on his elbows. Ignoring the strained squeak of the bedsprings and the more ominous creak from the bed's frame, he brushed Gourry's bangs away from his face. His hips making tiny, desperately needy thrusts, which rubbed his erection against his swordsman's, he begged, "Puh, please, take it out. Fuck me. Need you there."

"Now!" Zelgadis demanded as soon as he relinquished Gourry's lips. He started to reach behind himself, and, growling, fought the hold of the hand which was suddenly there to prevent him.

"Damn it, Zel!" Gourry hissed, fighting to retain his grip on his lover's wrist though he knew it was futile. With his mazoku strength, Zelgadis was stronger and would eventually free himself. And, besides, since the shaman had become so fixated on the precise way he would relieve the ache of his arousal, Gourry knew it would be far easier and more effective to use means other than words to convey his own desire.

Pushing as he let go of Zelgadis' wrist, Gourry used the other man's own momentum to reverse their positions, wincing a little when the headboard of the bed smacked solidly against the wall. Hands going to Zelgadis' shoulders, feet hooking over the smaller man's thighs, he pinned the shaman, but when his lover went limp beneath him instead of struggling, he relaxed into the position that the other man had previously held above him.

Reaching down, Gourry traced the panting chimera's rocky jaw and smiled into his shaman's hazy eyes, then murmured, "No. I want you to fuck me while you've got that plug in you."

Zelgadis flexed beneath Gourry, a deep throated, rumbling groan rising from him at the mere thought of sinking himself as deeply into his swordsman's disheveled beauty as the plug penetrated him. But, though his body trembled with the effort and his hands could not seem to stop restlessly roaming over whatever flesh was within reach, he retained the small modicum of control the other man had returned to him, and finally managed to rasp, "Gods, h-, hurry."

Relieved, since he had started to think that Zelgadis' lengthy pause meant he had not gotten through to the frenzied shaman, Gourry gathered up what remained of the pool of moisture which had leaked onto his stomach from before. He added that which had newly pooled on his partner's belly, then spit into his hand for good measure. It would have to do, for their usual lubricant was nowhere in sight, and even if Zelgadis remembered what he had done with it after using it on himself, he was not capable of leaving his shaman long enough to go get it.

Head whipping to the side, Zelgadis bit into a pillow to stifle his moan as Gourry first slid up his body then reached behind himself and grasped his erection with a slick hand.

Breath hissing from between clenched teeth, Gourry hastily smoothed the remainder of the makeshift lubricant into himself, then, one hand returning to Zelgadis' erection to guide it within, he slowly lowered himself.

When he felt his buttocks brush Zelgadis' thighs, when the initial stinging subsided, Gourry fell forward, groaning at the wonderful, excruciating fullness which stretched him to his limit. Experimentally, he rocked his hips, but froze, wrestling to stillness the instincts urging him to continue until he was sated, as a heavy, powerful grip closed on his waist, as a keen rose from his lover that not even the pillow could muffle.

"S-, stop!" Zelgadis managed after spitting out the pillow, the conflagration formed by the dual sensations of penetrating and being penetrated threatening to devour him whole.

"Time?" Gourry asked, and when Zelgadis just mutely nodded, he bent and murmured against the shaman's lips, "Won't move 'til you're ready."

"Mmmm, d-, don' wanta b-, be here. Feel so good," Zelgadis mumbled, burying his fingers in the fire-flecked gold which streamed all around him. He hissed as his hips flexed involuntarily, then forlornly moaned, "N-, need to scream."

"Gods, do too," Gourry softly cried, lips dipping to his lover's for a moment as his own hips gyrated slightly in response. "B-, but we can't. They're-, ah!" He broke off with a sharp intake of breath as the flesh buried within him shifted again.

"Shhh, slowly, we'll take it slowly," Gourry whispered. He pushed Zelgadis' stiff hair back from his face and holding it in place, he lost himself in the shifting depths of the pair of wide, turquoise eyes below him. "You're so beautiful."

"Ah, gods!," Zelgadis gasped as Gourry rocked on him again, then breathed the answer the swordsman demanded of him, "Y-, yes, I am!" And, for the first time since the meadow where his lover had started including the tiny ritual as a part of their lovemaking, the words came easily to his lips. Gourry's meadow! Biting back his cry with the same force as the teeth which suddenly sank into his neck, he longed to be back in that wild field. He would give almost anything for its privacy, even go through that ridiculous picnic again and subsequent argument.

Gourry raked his nails the length of Zelgadis' torso as he reared back. He held his breath as he tightened and slid himself up the flesh embedded in him. Gods, though not nearly as vocal a lover as his shaman, this time he was finding it as difficult to contain himself. Nor was Zelgadis the only one who longed to be elsewhere.

Closing his eyes, Gourry could feel the cool breezes of the parcel of forestland he had fallen in love with caressing his sides along with his shaman's hands. He had thought to present it as a gift to Zelgadis, but just after the sale had been finalized, Amelia and Lina, knowing as little about his secretive plans as his lover, had insisted on returning to Seyruun's capital.

Gourry rocked his hips, then tightened and lifted himself again. How he wished he and Zelgadis were there. No one would hear his cries in a place so deep in the woods that even his reclusive shaman would be satisfied.

Zelgadis thrust upwards, meeting Gourry as he lowered himself, sharply crying out despite his best intentions. His senses, already racing as quickly as his heartbeat, sped faster when he discovered that a large, warm hand already surrounded the erection he sought. He somehow swallowed another keening cry, desperately wishing there were some magic he could work which would translocate Lina and Amelia elsewhere so he would not have to hold himself back.

Gourry opened his hand as he felt fingers playing over both it and his cock, and laced them with his own. He thrust himself through the tight, slick-with-his-own-moisture fingers, then impaled himself again on the unforgiving rigidity beneath him, repeating the sequence over and over with ever increasing speed. The throbbing-aching within him building until the pleasure was as tormenting as pain, Gourry whimpered, though he wanted the freedom to do more. He wanted Lina and Amelia on the other side of the world. He wanted someone else in the room next door, someone to whom he would not have to explain himself in the morning when he...

"Ah, gods! Z-, h-, hard-," Gourry tried to beg as Zelgadis' hips made some subtle shift and his lover's cock began brushing against the deepest spot of pleasure within him with every stroke.

All that was in Zelgadis wanted to roar in response to his lover's roughened, pleading tenor, to the tempest which tightened its grip on him with every shift of the fullness within him and each thrust which filled his swordsman. He sank his teeth into his lower lip to kill the wail building in his throat, but the twang of his own blood on his tongue only wound his body's tension to the next highest level.

A final twitch of his hips, one last burst of speed from the hands wrapped around his cock, and Gourry curled forward, helplessly shuddering as his release bathed his shaman's stomach and chest.

A final desperate thrust through the spasming muscles surrounding him, and Zelgadis peaked, his mouth opening in a silent shriek as his body uncoiled and released its tension into his swordsman's.

'But, oh, sweet torment to be still. To be quiet as mice, quiet as voles, soft as owls' wings.'

"Oh... gods," Gourry breathed, his voice a shadowy rasp as he slowly collapsed, blanketing Zelgadis.

"Y-, yeah," Zelgadis mumbled through the mouthful of golden hair he hadn't the energy to puff or push away.

"Th-, that was intense," Gourry whispered, eyes sliding shut as he contentedly began to nuzzle his lover's ear.

"An understatement, given the girls' nearness. I-," Zelgadis broke off, sudden concern lending him enough will to finally sweep the curtain of gold from his face when Gourry's chuckle changed into a soft hiss.

"I'm all right, love, but I think I pulled something trying not to scream," Gourry reassured, lifting his head enough to see Zelgadis' face. He smiled into his shaman's frown, ruefully pressing an arm into his side.

"We'd better abstain, then, the next time they're so close," Zelgadis said, reaching a hand up to trace Gourry's jaw. "I don't want you hurt."

"What? And, lose the chance for another night like this? No way! I'd trade this stitch in my side for a sword stroke if it meant doing this again." Gourry grinned as he pushed Zelgadis' bangs back, revealing his other eye and more of the deeper blue-green skin tone which meant that he was blushing. He bent and pecked the tip of his shaman's nose, then winked and added, "Besides, it worked. We did all right. They didn't hear us even with all the noise we..." He stiffened along with Zelgadis as someone abruptly began pounding on their door, his final word emerging as a tiny, almost squeaky, whisper. "Made."

"You know, you guys really oughta keep it down in there! Some people are trying to sleep!"

"Oh, gods," Zelgadis breathed, the strident annoyance in the sharp feminine voice tightening his gut.

Wincing, Gourry's head sank until his forehead touched his shaman's. It was frightening to think of the acrobatics that he and Zelgadis would have to perform to placate the hotheaded sorceress. He knew his lover must be similarly dismayed when the other man's groan started half a heartbeat behind his own.

"I heard that! Aren't you guys done yet? We've got to get out of here early tomorrow! Remember? Guys, are you listening to me?"

"Miss Lina! Why are you standing around in the hall yelling your head off? You woke me up!"

"No! Don't you dare, Miss Lina! The hammer of justice will smite you if you blow up an inn full of innocent people!"

Gourry stifled Zelgadis' soft chuckle with a kiss which deepened so quickly that it overpowered all but the last little holdout bit of concern for his friends in the hall. But, as his shaman's fingers gently twisted in the hair at the back of his neck and he felt the subtle stiffening of the flesh still buried in him, he dismissed the girls altogether. Watching out for each other, he was sure that Lina and Amelia could face down whatever guests this inn had, so unless they called for help or brought the building crashing down around their ears, he would see them in the morning. For now, there was only Zelgadis, and he was not about to let anything beyond the boundaries of this bed distract him from the glory of his love.