The Sun and It’s Moon

CW: Explicit content. Anonymous Sex. Public Sex. FTM MC. Afab terms used for genitalia.

Fabian wore a mask. That is to say, he covered who he was, even when not at an autumn ball like that night. As the eldest child of a merchant, his place in society was as fragile as the fickle turning of the kingdom’s economy.

He had been born with a different destiny, perhaps filled with the dull days of being a rich man’s wife. But his father had spit in the face of that once Fabian had insisted he was a man.

In all, Fabian counted himself fortunate. He was a man, as happy as that made him and the heir to a lucrative ink-making business.

The air was fragrant with the scents of fallen leaves and expensive perfume. The masquerade ball was in full swing beyond the garden, where Fabian took his respite. Laughter like bells rung out.

Fabian shuddered, trying to calm his racing heart. Events like this were really too much. As an eligible bachelor, women vied for his attention. Though his interest in them was thin. His eyes lingered more on the other male suitors in waistcoats of vibrant brocade and with clever, large hands.

A jolt of desire went through Fabian, hot and potent, as he sat on the garden bench. It brought a blush to his cheeks, though no one was around to notice his degeneracy. Now that the daydream was flitting in his head, he sunk into it.

His hand went between his thighs, rolling into the pressure. A moan escaped Fabian’s slack lips. It was easy to picture it was another man’s touch on him.

“Good evening.”

The sound of another voice made Fabian’s hand snap back to his side.

A man was leaning over him, tall and lean. A trim swallowtail coat accentuated his thin waist. There was a mask hiding the top of his face in the shape of a leering sun and framed by his fiery hair.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” the man said, chuckling. He loomed close and licked his tongue over his bottom lip. “I was hoping to find some real fun among these fops.”

Fabian’s mouth went dry. “My Lord, I-“

“Take your breeches off,” the man said. “I want to see your pretty quim.”

Fabian froze as his heart plummeted to his boots. How possibly could this man know? His family kept it a secret for nearly three decades!

Despite his reservations, Fabian unclasped his trousers and lowered them to his knees.

“Delicious.” The man inhaled deeply. “You smell delightful.” Without waiting for an invitation, he placed either hand on Fabian’s thighs to part them further. “Like sweet wine.” He lowered his face and licked a hot stripe over Fabian’s throbbing clit.

Fabian gasped, muffling a moan with the heel of his hand. “M-My Lord!”

“Hush.” The man let out a raspy breath against Fabian’s flesh. “I wish to enjoy my meal.” Once again, he plunged himself against Fabian’s wet core. The heat of his breath and tongue was unrelenting, coaxing a low simmering euphoria from Fabian.

“Oh, please,” Fabian begged, hands grasping at the man’s vibrant hair. “It-“ Why was he doing this? He’d never dared to visit the Molly houses and clubs created for men like him. Whether it was fear or lack of time was up to debate. It certainly was not a lack of interest.

The man pulled away, replacing his lips with deft gloved fingers.

Gliding over his heated flesh, the sensation of silk on his clit made Fabian shudder deliciously.

“Sweet morsel,” the man purred, slipping his fingers into Fabian’s clenching core. “No one has ever tasted you, have they?”

“N-no, My Lord.”

“Brilliant.” The man stood, unlatching and lowering his trousers. “My cock will be your first. Unless you object?”

Fabian gasped, eyes finding the throbbing length now eye-height. It was thick and long, dribbling from its uncut head.

Mutely, he nodded. “P-Please, My Lord. I want it.”

The man smirked. “Good choice.” Then, like a mountain lion closing in for the kill, he was on Fabian.

Fabian let out a yelp, reflexively hooking his leg around the man’s waist as he was pinned across the bench by his wrists.

With a low growl, the man sunk his cock to the hilt into Fabian’s wet pussy.

Immediately, it was like Fabian was ablaze. It was so unlike his own hands or the glass cocks he’d ride when he was alone. The length in Fabian was hot and alive. Heavy pants left his slack jaw as he was humped.

“So tight,” the man rasped, sucking on the edge of Fabian’s earlobe. “I’m going to fill you up until you’re dripping with my seed.”

Fabian gasped, the rough pace and crude words tingling over his flesh.

“I’m going to make you mine,” the man whispered, sounding more like a threat than a promise.

But Fabian bent anyway, eyelids fluttering. “I’m your’s, My Lord.” He arched up into each thrust, his own pleasure like a lighthouse answering an approaching ship.

“I-I,” the man’s voice faltered. “I’m going to mark you f-from the inside. I-“

Fabian whimpered as he peaked around the man’s length, clinging to him like he’d drown if he let go.

The man made good on his promise. With a rumbling growl, he thrust one last time and spilled inside of Fabian’s quivering cunt.

They lay like that for a moment before the man pulled out.

“That was a better time than a boring masquerade ball, wouldn’t you say,” the man said, laughing lowly.

Fabian’s answering nod was weak. “Y-Yes. I-“

His words were forgotten as the man pressed their lips together.

“Come home with me,” the man breathed, grasping Fabian’s jaw. “I’ll lay you on silk sheets and make you peak until you forget your last name and endeavor to take mine instead.”

Fabian inhaled sharply, staring up at the man. The sun mask had stayed on, only blue eyes watching him as words failed.

“I-“ Fabian began. Then he smiled. “Very well, My Lord.”