Bast froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins, heart gripped tight as if by a steel fist. The cool green eyes bored into his own, the gaze piercing, so sharp it was all Bast could do not cast his eyes downwards in shame.
'Reshi…' Bast's voice quivered, barely stirring the still air; fraught with the crackling static of uncertain tension. 'I'm sorry'
He made to move back on the bed, pulling himself off his master's body but he was forced to still almost instantly when a hand struck out with vicious speed from beneath him. It found his throat, the deep calloused 'V' between the thumb and forefinger pressed tight under Bast's chin. The eyes continued their silent, burning stare into his own, the fierce heat of the gaze and the chokehold on his throat denying him the relief of looking away, even for a second.
When the accusing silence was becoming almost too painful to bear, Bast attempted to speak again, voice compressed and diminished under the vice like ministrations of Kvothe's grip.
'Reshi, I'm so sorry. If…If you'd just let me go I can leave, I can get off you. I'm so sorry. I'll leave here… you'll…' Bast choked back a sob, voice so shaky he could barely even make sense of the words spilling from his own lips himself. 'You don't ever have to see me again…'
The grip tightened on his throat and Bast's words were crushed into silence by his master's hand. He tried to suck in air but quickly found he could no longer breathe. He desperately tried to pull back, gasp for air and extricate himself from the vicious crushing grasp. His vain struggles only had him being pulled closer, nose to nose with that face of abject disgust; feeling the full force of the bottomless, furious green oceans that were the eyes of the man that would surely choke the life out of him. Lights started to wink before his eyes and he twisted blindly, hopelessly like a dying animal in a snare.
And then, just as Bast thought he would pass out from the pressure and the burning starvation for sweet oxygen that was ripping through his chest, suddenly, inextricably, the cruel grip was gone from his throat. Bast jerked back instinctively, coughing, wheezing, overtaken by the primal, unstoppable need to refill his aching lungs. And then, barely before he could take a second gulp of cool, clean air or even make sense of anything going on around him, his face was pulled forward roughly once more. He shut his eyes in fear, awaiting the blow sure to follow. But it was not a fist that struck him, seconds later, but a mouth crushed hard against his own, fierce as a new flame, teeth and bruising kisses and hot wet breaths and Bast was lost and confused and so goddam drunk with a feeling that he couldn't process yet. His thoughts seemed to have backed up, as if it wasn't only his throat that had been having the life crushed out of it mere seconds ago but his brain too. All he could do was return the hungry kisses with the same ferocity, a feeling of pure need taking him over. Their bodies were crushed tight together and all Bast could do was claw at his Reshi's back, bite at his sweat slicked neck and shoulder as if he was merely an animal, programmed only by pure, savage instinct.
He pushed himself desperately against his master, not even caring which body part he rubbed against, frantic with the need to find some sort of friction. Half mad with lust he pulled himself on top of Kvothe, mouth finding the other's once more, sucking on his bottom lip, his own lips swollen and grazed from his Reshi's stubble. He bit along Kvothes jaw until his teeth found the smooth, soft flesh of his master's neck, hips rocking against those below him, sending shivers of pure pleasure radiating up his spine from between his legs. He gasped in ecstasy, stifling his moans into the nape of Kvothe's neck, and knew he wouldn't last much longer rubbing on him like this. Kvothe was panting hard underneath him. He shifted his hips upwards in pleasure and the feel of their erections momentarily sliding against each other was more than enough to send Bast tumbling over the edge. He groaned low in his throat, pushing his cock hard against his master's thigh again and again, biting down on his shoulder as he spilled himself onto the bed below, lost in all consuming pleasure.
He felt Kvothe still beneath him and Bast, still breathless with exertion looked up at him, flushed from the shame of his quick climax.
'Sorry', he mumbled, embarrassed, eyes cast down and breathing still rapid 'I couldn't stop….' 'You…' 'You felt so good.'
He bent down and pressed his lips against Kvothe's, more softly this time, tasting the saline tang of his sweat, teasing, delighting in the feeling of being able to do this freely and without fear of reprisal. Kvothe was motionless for a while but finally Bast felt the soft lips beneath his respond. He deepened the kiss and his hand snaked instinctively down between their bodies until he felt his master's arousal against his fingers.
Kvothe groaned, pressing himself reflexively up into Bast's hand.
'Do you want me to...?
He stroked his length gently with the tips of his fingers and Kvothe arched into him again, stifling his moans into Bast's neck.
'Do you?' He whispered; breath hot against Kvothe's ear, hand damp with a combination of his own sweat and his master's pre-come. His fingertips teased gently once again, dancing over the rock hard flesh beneath them but denying Kvothe enough friction to finish him.
He started when he felt the sharp pressure of teeth sinking into his clavicle. He took that as an affirmative.
It only took a couple of strokes before Kvothe was shuddering into his hand; his hot wet mouth forming an 'O' against Bast's jaw as he came onto the sheets.
He felt Kvothe relax his taught body back onto the bed and he followed, a wave of exhaustion dragging him inexplicably down. He retrieved the pooled woollen blankets from their crumpled heap at the side of the bed, where they fallen some time during the night's struggle. Bast had barely managed to pull them over both of them before he was sinking into the delicious, heady warmth and falling gratefully into velvet black sleep.
When he woke at dawn, to the harsh screams of crows cawing outside the bedroom window and the dirty-grey, watery dawn light, the bed was cold and Kvothe was gone.