Disclaimer: The plot is mine. The characters belong to Hiro Mashima.
Author's note: A fic more dedicated to a friend who loves these two together (as do I). This story is pretty explicit so it's not safe for work or minors. You have been warned. When Laxus gets too overwhelmed there is one person he goes to for some stress-relief…and Bixlow is only too happy to oblige his team leader.
Necessary Role-Reversal
He knew what he was there for; regardless of the tense stance and the unfriendly expression. Most of it was a facade that he clung to for whatever reasons he had. Bixlow merely lays on his side watching and waiting. It wouldn't be long, it never was and he knew to just wait and let Laxus come to him. Let him keep some semblance of control of himself at any rate if it made him feel better.
Finally, he'd move from the doorway slipping in and pulling it closed before padding across the room. Bixlow would slowly sit up, the sheets pooling to his waist still quietly watching; an amazing thing considering just how much he LIKED to talk but there were just times it wasn't a good idea. Once he was at the bedside, however, Bixlow says softly, "Lax?" It would be all it would take before the other would tug him close pressing their mouths together and that desperation would become all too apparent.
It would be easy to tug the other to the bed and shift until he was over top of him, red eyes meeting orange, his lips curving slightly but whatever thoughts he had stayed safely unvoiced as he leans in and initiates the next kiss forcefully inwardly enjoying the feel of him slowly relaxing and surrendering beneath him. He breaks the kiss and moves down not granting the other a chance to recover. He never did because it was what Laxus needed; WHY the blond came to him when things got too much, when his responsibilities got too much and he NEEDED someone to just take care of things for a while.
Fingers would soon tangle in his short spikes as he wreaks havoc on Laxus' senses alternating licking, sucking, and nipping at the skin he could get to as he pushed the boxers down his hips. Feeling him shudder and squirm was definitely something and Bixlow highly treasured the trust the other had in him. The grip tightens, the shifting becomes more pronounced, and the commentary has far more profanity in it than anything as Bixlow's tongue traces up him as he works on driving his need to an all-consuming desperation. It was necessary for things to get where they needed to considering the blond's dislike of letting someone else control things. He presses his mouth over him delighting in the sharp sound and way the others body shudders and sucks hard, his fingers lightly stroking his hips.
The orgasm that he draws from the other leaves him panting, dazed, and far less likely to throw lightning at the slightest provocation which was definitely a plus. Slowly, Bixlow lifts his hips further up pushing them towards his chest and watching those eyes widen before he'd grin and murmur, "Relax, baby, you know you like this." He doesn't grant the other a chance to respond before leaning close and flicking his tongue out lightly flicking THERE. The sharp jerk and low sound makes him smirk as he'd do it again. Laxus made the most enticing sounds like this which definitely wasn't often as the other was usually far too aggressive for such a position. So Bixlow enjoyed it when he could. After a few repetitions, the Seith mage finally slowly presses the hot appendage in smirking at the choked whimpering sound that NO ONE would ever expect from the blond. Ever.
Over and over, he works his tongue in driving the blond absolutely crazy in all the best of ways enjoying the way he squirmed and whimpered and positively begged for more, for him NOT to stop, and oh RIGHT THERE! Oh yes, it was easy to see why Bixlow was so damned addicted to doing this. It would be with reluctance, like normal, that he'd withdraw though he was well aware of the time-limit for this and knew how long he could draw it out before it would get to be too much for the other. He glances at the panting, flushed male sprawled on his bed and smiles softly. "Ah, Lax," he murmurs.
"J-just…Bix…Get ON with it!"
"Pushy, pushy," he murmurs as he leans over to the nightstand, "Someone really must have riled you up." He'd have his fingers coated and one circling and slowly working in before the other could respond and then by then…well, Laxus wasn't doing more than shuddering and gasping which suited Bixlow just fine. One would become two and then three as he'd slowly press them in deep making sure to rub that bundle of nerves and watch the others eyes go slit as his back arches and that choked whining sounds to start again.
Once assured that the other was good and ready, he withdraws the digits trying his best not to be TOO amused at the whined protest before he'd slick his own hot skin and move over top the other glancing down at him as he'd slowly sink into him; the tight heat making him groan low in his throat mixing with the others gasped sound. He stills once in, fingers lightly stroking his shoulders feeling him slowly relax around him. He grants him the time he needs before making a shallow thrust…and then another…and then another until Laxus is pressing back groaning low in his throat, eyes fluttered shut, face flushed and clearly DESPERATE for him to stop being so gentle. But he still waits until he finally gets the growled, "I'm not a fucking DOLL, Bix, and if you DON'T fucking move I'm going to hurt you!"
It would be all he'd need before he'd withdraw almost all the way and shove back in making the other arch and gasp out. And he'd repeat over and over and over choosing a fast almost rough pace as the other encouraged it and not only that BEGGED for it. It was damn addicting and nearly enough to have Bixlow hit that edge but he focuses on the other, reading his wants and needs easily from years of experience and he drives him over that edge over and over almost violently granting no quarter until the other was suitably disheveled, sweating, and so damn close to be unconscious he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Bixlow slowly slides out before leaning close and kissing his forehead tenderly. "Rest," he whispers softly, "Rest, Lax." He watches the other slowly do as asked, his breathing slowly evening out and going steady.
Tomorrow, he'd be back to being Laxus; dragon slayer, Master's Grandson, Thunder God…but for tonight, he was merely HIS and that…to Bixlow was one of the greatest gifts he'd been granted.